Left Outside Alone
by rose elliott
Summary: Kurt is willing to do anything it takes to prove to his father that he can be a part of their new-look family. Spoilers up to Laryngitis. Glee is not mine - it kills me. WIP
1. Chapter 1

A/N Spoilers: This fic takes place sometime after Laryngitis but before Finn and Carole move into Hummel Palace (if they do – haven't seen that episode yet!).

Warnings: None yet, apart from another big dose of Kurt angst!

Songs mentioned in this chapter: Hey You (Madonna), 9 Crimes (Damian Rice) – both can be found on youtube.

Disclaimer: I don't own them – it kills me.

**Chapter 1**

Kurt Hummel never gets sick; a fact he attributes partly to his superior immune system and strict vitamin regime, but mainly to his impeccable self-control when it came to exercise and food. For the past two years nothing that isn't organic and that has a GI of greater than 50 has been allowed into his house, let alone his stomach.

So when he feels a little spacey at Glee rehearsal on Monday, he refuses to acknowledge it as anything other than a reaction to the stress he's been under lately.

What with his father and Carole's whirlwind of a love affair, matched in intensity only by his father's new found enthusiasm for his surrogate son and new best buddy Finn Hudson, Kurt's stress levels have been significantly higher than usual.

Sleeping has also become something of a challenge and even the breathing exercises recommended by his Duncan Wong yoga DVD (recommended by Madonna herself) have failed to calm him down enough to sleep for the past few nights. Instead he has lain in bed with his eyes scrunched shut, trying not to think about what all this fretting is doing to his complexion.

So if the room continues to spin after Kurt has stopped then he is sure it is just because he is tired and stressed - he is most definitely not sick.

Mr. Schuester beats out the rhythm of Madonna's, "Hey You." as he calls out instructions to the group, "…and left-two-three and turn-two-three and back row forward and front row spin."

And with her 600-mega-watt show-smile fixed firmly in place, Rachel spins merrily into Kurt, and suddenly he finds himself flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling, the band still playing as the dancing comes to a grinding halt while the members of the Glee club desperately not to try to fall over each other.

"That's enough guys." Will gestures for the musicians to stop playing, "Kurt – you ok?"

Kurt struggles to a sitting position, still feeling a little light-headed, and it is Puck who offers him his hand and helps him back up to his feet. Kurt is unable to appreciate this slightly unorthodox gesture as the spinning is back and next thing he knows he's being pushed gently down into the chair that has suddenly appeared behind him. He sits there, head between his legs, unable to hear anything above the roaring in his ears.

As the pounding in his head recedes and his vision returns he is aware of soft voices murmuring above him and a hand rubbing gentle circles on his back.

He sits up slowly, to see his teacher kneeling in front of him, his brow wrinkled in concern.

"What happened?" Kurt asks, thickly.

"We lost you for a second." His teacher replies. "How are you doing Kurt?"

Kurt thinks about this for a moment and pauses long enough that Will shares an anxious look with Mercedes who is sitting next to Kurt, her hand still rubbing his back comfortingly.

"Kurt?" His best friend prompts him gently.

"I'm fine." Kurt replies, "We were dancing and then…" Kurt grimaces and suddenly it is all coming back to him. "Please tell me I did not just pass out in front of the entire Glee club?"

"Well, it wasn't the entire club." Mercedes tells him reassuringly, "Finn wasn't there – he has a baseball game."

And Kurt is quiet again because he already knows Finn has a baseball game – in fact, his father had spoken of nothing else that morning at breakfast while Kurt had tried to seem enthusiastic, smiling up at his dad through gritted teeth. Burt Hummel had been planning to shut up the shop early especially to go and see Finn play.

Kurt is startled out of his reverie as he feels a cool hand on his brow. It's Mr. Schuester who is asking Mercedes if she has Kurt's Dad's number on her cell.

"I'm fine Mr. Schue, really." Kurt gets to his feet carefully and is relieved to find that his legs are now behaving themselves.

"Kurt, I'm worried about you. You feel a little warm. I really don't think you should be driving home."

"But…" Kurt begins, but he is interrupted by Mercedes who gets to her feet and faces him, arms folded.

"I agree with Mr. Schuester." She says firmly, "Kurt, you know I love you but you look like hell and I'd hate to see that fine shirt you're wearing destroyed if you crash your car on the way home."

Kurt glares at her but she stares back defiantly. He sighs and turns back to his teacher, "Actually Mr. Schue, I'm not driving home today. My Dad is at Finn's baseball game and he's going to give me a ride home later."

Will looks relieved, "That's good." He grabs his jacket and starts heading for the door. He turns around as he reaches the door, "I don't want to see you at school tomorrow if you're not feeling better, ok?"

"Sure, Mr. Schuester." Kurt agrees easily.

He knows he will be at school tomorrow because he is Definitely Not Sick. Mercedes takes his arm and guides him gently out of the choir room. Kurt rolls his eyes at her behaviour, "I really am ok you know."

"Sure you are." They reach her locker and she turns to face him, studying his face anxiously, "I'm supposed to go meet my brother now but you still don't look good boy. You're whiter than Michael Jackson in a snow storm."

Kurt rolls his eyes, "I'm fine Mercedes. You know I never get sick. My attendance record is perfect."

"You missed a whole day last month." She reminds him.

"Yes but technically I was at school. I was just locked in the janitor's closet for six hours." He shudders at the memory, "I appreciate your concern Mercedes but I really am ok."

She studies his face for a moment and seems satisfied with what she finds there, "Ok," she agrees reluctantly, "but you got to promise me you'll tell your Dad what happened so he can look out for you tonight."

Kurt nods and waves her off dismissively. Before she leaves she turns him towards her and looks him in the eye. "If you don't tell him I will know. And then I will be forced to tell the entire school that you swooned when Noah Puckerman held your hand." Kurt grimaces at the thought, "Do we understand each other?" She asks sternly.

Kurt gives her a nervous smile and nods.

"Good." She pulls him into a quick hug, "You take care of yourself ok? Call me later."

Kurt heads to his locker to pick up his stuff before heading to the parking lot to wait for his dad and Finn.

Kurt leans against his dad's truck and wishes there was somewhere he could sit. He briefly considers throwing caution to the wind and just sitting on the ground next to the truck, but his pants are beige and Versace and almost painfully fabulous and however bad he feels Kurt can't bring himself to do it.

He hears them before he sees them. Finn's voice is excited and it reminds Kurt of his speedy monologues when he was high on the decongestant earlier that semester.

Kurt watches them approach, all smiles and excitement, and his heart aches.

"You got some serious talent son." Kurt's father tells Finn, "I was real proud of you today."

Finn beams at him, "Thanks, that means a lot."

"Hey kiddo." Burt Hummel claps his son on the shoulder as he makes his way towards the truck. "Good day at school?" He gets into the truck and shuts the door before Kurt has a chance to reply.

"Hey Kurt, how was rehearsal?" Finn asks, and Kurt watches as he opens the passenger door and gets into the truck next to his father like it's the most natural thing in the world.

Kurt stares after them for a moment feeling stricken, before climbing into the back seat, his relief at being able to rest his shaky legs temporarily masking the pain of having been demoted from the front of the truck to the back.

As his father starts the engine, Kurt leans his forehead against the window. The cool glass feels good against his skin and he closes his eyes.

"… should be fun, right Kurt?" Kurt's mind drifts back into focus and he sees Finn peering back at him, a lopsided grin on his face.

"Huh?" Is all Kurt can manage, and he hears his father's grunt of disapproval as he pulls into their driveway.

"Son, haven't you been listening?" He looks back at Kurt and sighs. Kurt sees a disappointed look in his eyes and feels himself tearing up. He blinks them back as his Dad continues, "Finn and I were wondering if you wanted to come see the game with us tomorrow."

Kurt tries to ignore the little voice in his head telling him that, if life made sense, it would be him and his father inviting Finn and not the other way around.

He realizes that the happy couple are waiting for an answer so he clears his throat, "Um, sure Dad. I'd love to."

He knows his dad is trying and he appreciates that, he really does. And Finn looks so pleased that he's agreed to come that the part of Kurt that is still hopelessly in love with the jock, does a little somersault.

They make their way inside and Carole is already there. The house smells of baking and a perfume that is not Kurt's mother's.

She smiles at them as they enter, "Hey guys, how was the game?"

"Great, Finn was a champ…" And they are off again.

Kurt feels sick and miserable and invisible. For a moment he stands and listens again to his father's enthusiastic (and somewhat exaggerated is Kurt's suspicions are correct) retelling of Finn's triumphs on the pitch.

And then he can stand it no more. Aside from the fact that he has already heard these stories several times during the car journey home, he is also starting to feel very strange indeed. In fact, his brain feels as though it has been taken out of his head, slushied and then tossed in the dumpster for good measure.

He slips out of the room, figuring that nobody will notice he's not there anyway, and heads up to his parents' room.

He pulls the dresser drawers open and sits down in front of it, taking comfort from the familiar smell. He takes his ipod out of his pocket and scrolls through until he finds the song he wants. Then he curls up in front of the dresser and closes his eyes and lets the music run through him and the tears fall down his face.

Leave me out with the waste

This is not what I do

It's the wrong kind of place

To be thinking of you

It's the wrong time

For somebody new

It's a small crime

And I got no excuse…

"Kurt?" It's Carole's voice.

Kurt opens his eyes and sees her tentatively poking her head around the door. He sits up quickly frantically trying to wipe away the evidence of his tears.

"Oh honey." And suddenly her arms are around him and she's soft and warm and she smells like home and Kurt wants nothing more than to lean into her and lose himself.

He allows himself to relax into her embrace and for a moment everything seems alright. And then everything seems all wrong. He suddenly realizes that he can no longer smell his mom's perfume, only Carole's. Somehow this seems like the ultimate betrayal.

He pulls back as if he has been stung, and scrambles to his feet, leaving Carole on the floor by the dresser, looking confused and a little hurt.

"Sorry Carole." His voice holds a slightly hysterical edge, "I'm ok. Really. Sorry if I worried you. It's just my allergies. Thank God for waterproof mascara, huh?" He gives a short, shrill laugh and backs away towards the door.

"Kurt…"

"I'm going down to my basement. Dinner smells really delicious but I already ate and I'm watching my figure. A moment on the lips, a life time on the hips and all. And apparently I have hips like a pear." He gives another awkward laugh, and now he is at the door, "Maybe you can plate some up for me and I'll have it later if I get hungry…"

"Kurt…" He hears her voice call after him, but he is gone, racing down the two flights of stairs to the safety of his basement as if his life depends on it.

A/N More coming soon…


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**: This fic takes place sometime after Laryngitis but before the rollercoaster ride that was Theatricality (which has left me slightly traumatized! And also a little in love with Burt!)

**Disclaimer**: Still not mine.

**Songs**: Left Outside Alone by Anastacia

* * *

**Chapter 2**

"Hey, Kurt." A hesitant voice pulls Kurt out of his doze.

Kurt looks up groggily and sees Finn standing awkwardly by the stairs, a plate in his hands.

"What's that?" Kurt asks.

Finn looks down at the plate he's holding as if he's forgotten it's there, "Oh, it's just some food. Mom was worried you were wasting away down here."

He grins disarmingly at Kurt who can't help smiling back. Finn looks relieved and moves towards him to hand over the plate of meatloaf. Kurt's insides rolls unhappily and he holds his breath until the feeling passes.

Kurt's head feels strange. He feels kind of… floaty and he wonders if he's still asleep. It wouldn't be the first dream he's had about Finn Hudson visiting him in his bedroom.

Finn puts the plate of food down on the night stand and sits in the chair by Kurt's bed.

"Are you ok dude? You look kind of weird."

Kurt winces and decides he's probably awake. Dream-Finn was more likely to call him darling than dude and he would never tell him he looked weird – more like ravishing (dream Finn also had a more advanced vocabulary than the real thing).

"Uh. Kurt? Should I get your Dad?" Oh, right, real-life Finn was expecting a reply.

Kurt clears his throat, "I'm fine – thanks for bringing dinner down."

"Hey, no problem." Finn grins again, "I think Mom and Burt wanted some alone-time anyway. Do you think they make-out?"

Kurt cringes, "I really don't want to think about it."

"Your Dad's really awesome you know Kurt."

Kurt gives him a weak smile, "I know."

"I had a hard time dealing with our parents being together at first but now, well…" he pauses and looks thoughtful, "I guess for the first time I feel like I know what it feels like to have a dad."

"And my for the first time my dad knows what it feels like to have the son he always wanted." Kurt says in a quiet voice, looking down at his hands.

"Hey, thanks." Finn tells him, totally missing the lost look in Kurt's eyes. "And, you know, my mom always wanted a daughter."

Kurt's head snaps back up, "A daughter? I'm not a girl Finn!"

"I know," Finn says quickly, looking uncomfortable, "But, uh, you like girl stuff. Like clothes and Madonna and… flowers and stuff."

"Flowers?" Kurt replies scathingly, "What makes you think I like flowers? If you must know I have allergies. Just because you're too narrow-minded to realize that having a Y chromosome doesn't necessarily mean you have to be an ignorant, knuckle-dragging, testosterone-fuelled Neanderthal doesn't mean I'm any less of a guy than you are."

Finn is on his feet, his fists clenched, "Hey man, that's not fair. That's not what I meant."

Kurt's head is pounding far too hard to be having this conversation. He closes his eyes for a moment and when he opens them again he looks up at Finn, "I know." He says quietly, "I'm sorry."

"Hey, that's ok. I'm sorry if I upset you." Finn looks more relaxed again, "So, big game tomorrow, huh? You ever played basketball?"

"A little." Kurt replies, deliberately not going into detail. Before his starring performances as kicker for the football team, Kurt's experiences of competitive sports generally ended up involving humiliation or injury. Usually both.

"It's gonna be great, man." There was a pause, and Finn is still looking at Kurt a little anxiously so Kurt gives him another weak smile. Finn looks relieved, "So I'd better go check on the kids – make sure they're not getting into any trouble." He grins, "See you tomorrow Kurt."

"Bye Finn." Kurt replies, and he waits until he hears the basement door close before he collapses back onto his pillows.

* * *

Kurt can't stop shaking. At first he had thought it was the come-down after his earlier contact with Carole and then Finn, but that was hours ago now and he just can't stop. His teeth chatter and he feels hot and cold at the same time.

It's late and his Dad hasn't come down to say goodnight like he usually does. Kurt wonders whether this is because he is angry with him for not playing happy families with the Hudsons upstairs or whether he has just forgotten. Kurt is not sure which is worse and so he tries not to think about it.

This is easier than he would have thought as he is distracted by a thirst so intense that he thinks that if Rachel Berry suddenly appeared at the bottom of the stairs with a glass of ice-cold water in her hand he would fall at her feet and offer to be her slave forever. It is probably a good thing that this is very unlikely to happen.

His mind wanders and he imagines her appearing in the angel costume she wore during the disastrous Run Joey Run video, glass in hand and winking, looking like the most beautiful vision in the world. It is at this point her realizes that he is Most Definitely Sick.

He also realizes that he needs a drink, like, now. The problem being his brain and his body don't seem to connect quite as well as they usually do and just the process of sitting up and getting out of bed takes some serious concentration.

On trembling legs he makes his way across his basement and is relieved when he reaches the stairs where there is the rail to hold on to and keep him steady. When he reaches the top he is sweating and exhausted and has to rest.

After catching his breath he goes to walk through the front room towards the kitchen when he stops in his tracks, suddenly confronted by Finn, fast asleep (and drooling, Kurt notes) on the couch.

Before his mind can really process this information he hears voices approaching from the kitchen. Suddenly he feels unaccountably exposed and he ducks behind the couch before his father and Carole enter mid-conversation.

"…just doesn't belong you know? I've busted my gut trying to make him feel accepted and all he does is mope about the place like someone kicked his puppy."

"Oh Burt, don't you think you're being a little hard on the kid?" Carole asks gently.

Burt sighs, "I don't know. Maybe. It's just… I've tried so hard with him, you know? Given him so many chances. And he keeps on letting me down. He doesn't even try to fit in."

"I know, honey." She replies, squeezing his arm, "And this is not your fault, Burt. You've worked so hard trying to bring him round – if he's not willing to make the effort to meet you halfway then maybe he's just not worth the effort at all."

He sighs and puts his arm around her, "Truth is, I think we'd all be a lot happier with him gone. It's just… I just keep thinking – what would his mother say?"

"I know honey, I know. It's a hard call. But maybe the independence will be good for him."

Burt snorts, "Are you kidding me? The kid's useless; he wouldn't last ten minutes on his own. No, I think I'm gonna have to give him one last chance. At least then I know I've tried everything and I can move on with a clear conscience."

"If you're sure," Carole snuggles up to him, "but I'm going to hold you to that. I hate to see you so stressed out about this. He's just not worth it."

Behind the couch, Kurt feels a part of him die.

Carole and his father sit together in companionable silence for a few moments.

"You're welcome to stay the night you know?" Burt tells Carole, "Seems a shame to wake sleeping beauty over there." He chuckles as he looks over at Finn who is snoring gently. "He's a special kid Carole."

"I know." She says smiling fondly at her son, "And he loves spending time with you Burt. It really means a lot to him."

Burt leans down and kisses her on the forehead, "It means a lot to me too." He tells her sincerely, "I really feel we've connected, you know? I love having him around. I love having you both around. I love feeling like I'm part of a family for the first time in… well a long time."

"Oh, Burt." She says and Kurt looks away as they kiss.

While they are distracted he slips out of the room on shaking legs. And then he is back on his bed with no memory of how he got there and as he closes his eyes, all he can hear is "last chance, last chance, last chance," echoing around his head like a mantra.

* * *

It's like magic, one moment Kurt is lying in bed shivering, the next he is back standing outside the Hudsons' French doors watching his father and Finn shouting at the TV as they watch the game.

He puts a hand to the glass and lets the tears fall down his cheeks.

And then the scene before him transforms – his Dad is there looking much younger and happier and there is a small boy with him. At first Kurt thinks it's himself – who else would it be?

But then he sees the boy's face and the big brown eyes and lop-sided grin are unmistakeably Finn's.

Before his eyes, beyond the French doors, happy scenes play out in front of him like snapshots from a home movie. Christmases and birthdays roll by and Little Finn gets bigger. Burt Hummel ages also but there is a light and a pride in his eyes as he watches the small boy grow that makes Kurt ache.

And then suddenly Kurt can't take it anymore and all he wants is for his dad to see him; to notice his little boy standing there outside in the cold. And as he calls desperately for his father, music begins to play.

_Left broken empty in despair  
Wanna breath can't find air  
Thought you were sent from up above  
But you and me never had love  
So much more I have to say  
Help me find a way_

And I wonder if you know  
How it really feels  
To be left outside alone  
When it's cold out here  
Well maybe you should know  
Just how it feels  
To be left outside alone  
To be left outside alone

Kurt's desperation builds and he begins to thrash desperately at the window – hammering at the glass as hard as he can, desperate for his father to look up, to look at him.

"Dad!" He calls again, but his voice echos uselessly against the pane of glass and his father doesn't look up and Kurt wonders if this is what it feels like to go mad.

"Daddy!" he screams, pounding against the window, and then suddenly he feels the ground shake underneath him and he is falling faster and faster and….

"Kurt, wake up!" It's his Dad's voice, "Kurt, it's ok – I'm here."

"Dad?" Kurt opens his eyes and sits up groggily. "Where's Finn? We were… there was… music?" He finishes weakly, feeling confused.

"You were dreaming son." His father tells him, "Although how you can sleep through this noise I have no idea." The ipod dock he uses as his alarm is blasting out the music.

"_All my life I've been waiting…"_

His Dad gets up and turns it down, before turning back to Kurt, his brow furrowed in concern. "Are you ok?"

Kurt blinks up at his Dad, still trying to make sense of it all. "You can hear me?"

"Of course I can hear you son, what's the…" But the relief at having his father so close, of having one last chance, is too much for Kurt and he flings himself at his Dad, knocking the wind out of Burt who suffers in silence as his son buries his face in his chest.

After a few moments he pulls back, holding his son at arms length and looking at him carefully, "That must have been some dream Kurt. I haven't heard you cry out like that since… well, not for a long time."

"Sorry Dad." Kurt sniffs, "It was stupid. I can't even remember what it was about really."

"Well, as long as you're ok." His father replies, pulling away. "Kurt, we need to talk about last night. You hiding away downstairs like that was not ok. Carole spent a lot of time preparing a meal so we could all eat together. It was real important to her. And to me too."

Kurt feels his insides curling in on themselves and his posture stiffens, "I'm sorry Dad."

Burt sighs, "I know this is hard for you son. But it's tough for Finn too and he's trying so hard to be ok about it. I need you to do the same Kurt, do you understand me?" His tone is stern and Kurt shrinks away from him.

"I understand." He says quietly.

"Good, well…" his father gets up and starts heading for the stairs, "I've gotta head to work. See you after school – I'll pick you and Finn up around five ok?"

"Ok." Kurt tells him.

"And Kurt, I know sports aren't really your thing but…" He pauses, "Just try, ok? For me."

Kurt nods and his father looks satisfied, making his way up the stairs and closing the door behind him.

Kurt gets slowly to his feet and clutches the wall as he waits for the world to stop spinning. Ok, not good. He drags himself to the bathroom feeling as though he has aged around eighty years overnight.

But as he looks at himself in the mirror, cringing at his sunken eyes and tousled hair, he remember his father's words from the night before and knows that he will do whatever it takes to prove that he can be a part of this new family.

* * *

A/N: Thank you _so much _to everyone who reviewed the last chapter – you made me smile on a crappy day and gave me the motivation to get this posted asap


	3. Chapter 3

Spoilers

: Up to and including Laryngitis.

**Warnings**: Puck's potty-mouth.

**Disclaimer**: Still don't own them. Sigh.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Kurt arrives at school early and thinks if he can just make it from the car to somewhere he can sit down everything will be ok. He has made it all the way to his locker before he runs into anyone which he thinks is probably a good thing as walking and talking don't seem a viable combination right now.

"Holy shit Hummel, you look like the walking dead." Great. Noah Puckerman.

Kurt tries to think of a sufficiently insulting reply (I mean, this is _Puck_, how hard can it be?) but his brain just isn't behaving.

Fortunately at this point, Mercedes appears like a guardian angel behind him, "You should check yourself in a mirror before you start hating on my man, Puck." She snarls, stepping in front of Kurt.

Slightly less fortunately, in stepping between the two boys she knocks into Kurt who has been struggling to stay upright all morning so a gentle shove is all it takes for him to lose his balance and fall into an ungraceful heap on the floor.

Mercedes whirls around, horrified, "Kurt, I'm so sorr… Hell, boy you look terrible."

"Thanks for your support, Mercedes." Kurt gives her his best icy-glare but obviously doesn't do a great job as her expression softens and she crouches down next to him.

"Honey, what are you doing here? You shouldn't be at school today. Let me give you a ride home."

"What are you, his Mom?" Puck smirks.

She rolls her eyes and stands back up to face him. "He's sick you asshole. Look at him." Kurt squirms under their gazes.

"He does look kinda… weird." Puck agrees after a moment.

"Duh." She rolls her eyes, "What did you think the swooning was about yesterday?" She asks him.

Puck shrugs, "I helped him up. I just assumed he was hot for me."

"Hot for you?" Kurt gasps, sounding horrified.

"Hey, it's nothing to be ashamed of Hummel." Puck smirks, "It's a well known fact that nobody can resist the sexual magnetism of the P-Rex."

"Ok, firstly I am not 'hot for you' _Puckerman,_" Kurt spits out, "I may be gay, but I have standards." He is ashamed to feel his face burning and prays the three layers of foundation he applied this morning are enough to rid his cheeks of the evidence.

"And secondly, I did not _swoon_ – who uses that word anyway? – I am _fine_."

Puck folds his arms across his chest and raises an eyebrow. "Get up then." He says, the challenge clear in his voice.

Kurt considers this for a second. The floor actually seems a pretty good place to be right now. He wonders if anyone would notice if he just curled up in a ball and went to sleep here.

"Hah!" Puck says triumphantly, making Kurt jump.

Mercedes glares at the jock and offers Kurt her hand, "Here, let me help you."

"Just… Give me a second." Kurt tells them, waving Mercedes' hand away irritably. He gets up slowly and just as he thinks he's made it the little black dots in front of his eyes are back and the room is tipping to one side and…

"Shit Hummel."

…and he is leaning on something solid and warm and gradually the tipping stops and his vision returns to normal. Wait. Not something, someone. Puck. He jerks back and nearly falls into Mercedes who looks at him and shakes her head.

She grabs his hand and pulls him into the empty choir room, "Sit." She instructs and she frowns as he sits obediently on the piano stool

"Now give me one good reason I shouldn't drag your white ass to the nurse's office right now."

Kurt rests his head in his hands and feels miserable. Arguing with Mercedes is usually one of his guilty pleasures; there are not many people who can keep up with his quick wit and sharp tongue and fewer still that he knows will still love him after being on the receiving end of both.

Fortunately Mercedes is able to give as good as she gets and Kurt usually finds the verbal combat between the two of them exhilarating and a great way of flexing his mental muscles.

Today his mental muscles seem to have gone on strike as he looks up and realizes that Mercedes is obviously waiting for an answer to a question he can't quite remember.

"Uh…" He stalls.

"That's it, I'm getting the Nurse."

"No!" He grabs her as she brushes past him. She looks from his hand clasping her arm in a death grip to his face, pale and desperate and totally un-Kurt like.

He takes a deep breath and releases his grip slightly. "Please Mercedes, I need to be at school today. I promise I'm ok, I'm just a little tired and strung out and… please – can't you just trust me on this?"

Her expression softens and she sits down next to him, "Kurt, I do trust you. I'd trust you with my life. I just don't always trust you with yours." She sighs, "And you can wipe that kicked puppy look off your face boy. It was like two weeks ago you were making out with Britney and I'm still having nightmares about all that flannel. You catching my drift here?"

Kurt doesn't respond and when Mercedes looks at him again there are tears in his eyes. "Sweetie, what's wrong? I hate to see you hurting like this."

Kurt takes a shaky breath, "I… I just need to get through today. At school. I promise if I still feel sick tomorrow I'll stay home. Today is… a really important day for me. And it's not like we have Glee practice or anything, I'll mostly just be sitting in class."

She looks at him seriously and he meets her eyes, a look of determination on his face. She sighs, "I'll give you until lunch. But if you still look like you're about to keel over then I'm calling your dad, ok?"

He smiles in relief, "Thanks Mercedes."

"Don't make me regret this." She tells him sternly, "If you feel worse you need to tell a teacher ok?"

"Yes, mom." He replies, rolling his eyes.

"I've gotta get to class, you coming?" She asks him, getting to her feet.

"I think I'll stay here for a while." He tells her, turning to face the piano, "I need to rehearse my song for Glee and I have Phys Ed first period."

"Ok, I'll catch you later." She gives his back a final concerned glance before hurrying out of the choir room.

Kurt plays a few random notes on the piano. He is relieved to be alone again; as much as he loves Mercedes, her iron will is giving him a headache today (not to mention her pink and yellow scarf which gives a while new meaning to the word 'gaudy').

Inspired by both Kurt's and Puck's unorthodox performances recently (Puck's Sammy Davis Jr. unanimously considered a far greater success than Kurt's attempt at Mellencamp), their assignment this week is to pick a song they wouldn't usually sing.

Apparently this will help them to "find something inside themselves they didn't know existed" (Kurt had learnt this from Artie – he had kind of zoned out after Mr. Schue began talking about "breaking musical boundaries" and "thinking outside the box").

Picking something that was neither a ballad nor a show tune had caused Kurt considerable difficulty. His original idea – a Whitney Houston number – had been vetoed by Mr. Schue. Apparently Kurt had missed the point (again) – it wasn't enough just to sing a girl's song as Kurt did that all the time (the irony of this was not lost on Kurt, who still felt a little sensitive about the Defying Gravity debacle).

After raiding his father's music collection (again) he had finally decided on performing an acoustic version of Queen's "The Show Must Go On," which suited both his vocal range and his mood.

He begins to play the introductory chords, his eyes closed as he feels rather than sees the notes in front of him, and he begins to sing,

_Empty spaces - what are we living for?  
Abandoned places - I guess we know the score...  
On and on!  
Does anybody know what we are looking for?_…

Another hero - another mindless crime.  
Behind the curtain, in the pantomime.  
Hold the line!  
Does anybody want to take it anymore?

The Show must go on!  
The Show must go on!  
Inside my heart is breaking,  
My make-up may be flaking,  
But my smile, still, stays on!

Whatever happens, I'll leave it all to chance.  
Another heartache – another

Kurt stops playing and thinks that closing his eyes was probably a mistake because his brain now seems to think it's time for a nap – and really, who is he to argue with his own brain?

Kurt rests his head on his hands on top of the piano and his mind starts to drift and…

* * *

… "Wake up!" Someone is shaking his shoulders.

"Five more minutes Dad, it's Saturday." Kurt mumbles and turns his head so that he's facing away from the rude interruption and his mind sinks back into the warm peaceful haven that is sleep until…

CLASH…

Kurt yelps and falls of the stool, landing hard on the floor. He looks up to see Puck standing by the drum kit, stick in hand, the cymbal still vibrating slightly.

"Oh my God Noah, are you trying to _kill me_?" He spits out, his heart still hammering.

Puck has the grace to look slightly guilty, "I've been trying to wake you up for the past like two hours. Or five minutes at least. I was worried you were like _dead_ or something."

"So to make sure I'm not dead, you try and kill me. That's just the kind of logic I'd expect from _you_ Puckerman." Kurt snaps. He still feels disorientated and his fall kind of hurt.

Pain makes him irritable. So does Puck. In combination they are like nails across a chalk board.

"Last I checked you were still alive Hummel." Puck tells him, settling himself onto one of the chairs. He folds his arms and raises an eyebrow. "Or if not you're the bitchiest corpse I've ever met."

Kurt ignores him and gets slowly to his feet. He winces as he feels his hip, which had taken the brunt of his fall, throb painfully.

"Well thanks for making my shitty day ten times worse." He tells Puck and is embarrassed to hear that his voice is a little shaky.

"Uh, maybe you should sit down." Puck tells him looking uncomfortable, "Seriously dude, you do not look good."

Kurt limps over to the chairs and makes a point of sitting as far away from Puck as he possibly can. Puck ignores the gesture and moves so he's sitting a couple of seats away.

"Seriously Hummel, what were you doing sleeping on the piano anyway? That's kind of messed up. Nurse Green's office has a bed and everything and she would totally let you sleep there. You look so pathetic you're like every nurse's wet dream or something."

"Oh God, please stop talking." Kurt moans because he really can't take much more of this. The weird part is that he honestly thinks that Noah might actually be trying to be nice. He thinks he is much easier to stomach when he's being deliberately obnoxious.

"So anyway," Puck says, ignoring him, "I was totally listening in on your conversation with Aretha…"

"Her name is Mercedes. And that's rude."

"Whatever. And I can totally help you."

"And what makes you think I need you help?" Kurt asks tiredly.

"Uh, duh, I just told you – I was listening. And also because you kind of look like a crack whore right now."

"A… what?" This is just so surreal.

"You know – all pale and pathetic and stuff. Anyway, I wanted to give you these."

He digs around in his bag and pulls out a small packet before throwing it at Kurt. Kurt's reaction times are not great today and the box hits him in the chest and falls to the floor. Puck rolls his eyes.

"What are those?" Kurt asks, looking down at them.

"They're the pills I got when I busted my Achilles tendon last fall. They're like, the good stuff – serious shit. You need to get through today – these will totally make that happen."

Kurt looks at the packet on the floor and then up at Puck, "And how do I know you're not trying to poison me?" He asks.

"Dude, I'm hurt." Puck protests, holding his hand up. "I just want to help. And also… I was kind of hoping you'd help me with my own… problem."

"And suddenly it all makes sense." Kurt mutters under his breath.

"See, I don't know if you noticed a few weeks back when you were having your freaky spaz-out, which was seriously disturbing by the way, but your best buddy and I were kind of the Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt of McKinley High for a while."

"I noticed." Kurt replies, "I still haven't quite worked out what the hell she was thinking but my best guess is that the strict calorie controlled regime enforced by Coach Sylvester drove her to temporary insanity."

"That's harsh man." Puck responds, looking a little taken aback, "We had a good thing going on. Truth is I miss her."

Kurt raises a skeptical eyebrow at him.

"Stop looking at me like that. I have feelings too you know. I may be a badass but I'm a badass with _depth_. Also she is seriously _hot_ – curves in all the right places if you know what I mean." Kurt wants to throw up a little, "Anyway, so I wanted to find a song to sing to her for our assignment this week. Show her that I really like her…"

"So, you want me help to pick out a song?" Kurt asks, feeling confused.

"Well actually I was thinking of Baby Got Back by Sir Mix-A-Lot."

"Oh dear God, please tell me you're not serious." Kurt replies, horrified.

"Freaky – that's exactly what Mr. Schue said. So can you think of something better? Something she'll like?"

Kurt massages his temples to try and ease the throbbing in his head. "I'll… think about it." He says, it's the best he can do right now.

"Great!" Puck exclaims enthusiastically.

"But Puck, just so you know, if you hurt her I will hunt you down, I will tie you up and then I will introduce you to my epilator."

"Uh, ok. I totally don't know what that means but… don't hurt her, I get it."

Puck slings his bag onto his back and before he leaves he turns back, "Seriously dude, take the pills. You'll feel better I promise."

Kurt reaches down to pick them up and when he looks back up, Puck is gone.

He looks at the pills in his hands and weighs up his options. Ok, so poison was probably going a little far and wasn't really Puck's style (if he was going to kill someone then he was probably the type to do it with his bare hands – poison was more "psychopathic housewife" than "king of the badasses").

But Kurt wouldn't put it past Puck to think it was hilarious to slip him laxatives or something similar.

On the other hand there was Puck's name right on the box, alongside a date last October. And Kurt remembered the injury he was talking about. He had been on the football team at the time and it had disturbed him to see his hard-assed team-mate so obviously in pain.

There was also the inescapable truth that Kurt felt a little like he'd been run over by a bus and that he didn't seem to be able to go for more than twenty minutes without falling over or falling asleep. The thought of making it to the end of school and then to the basketball game seemed as unachievable as running a marathon in his present state.

There were no instructions on the packet so he popped two pills out (it was always two right?) and looked down at them.

In his head he remembered the feeling of his dad's arms around him earlier that morning and the joy and relief that Kurt had felt when he realized that he was solid and real and there. And although it hurts him more than anything else he let's his mind drift back to the conversation he had overheard the night before.

"…all he does is mope about… so many chances… happier with him gone… kid's useless… one last chance, one last chance, last chance, last chance…"

And with these words echoing round his head, Kurt puts the pills into his mouth and swallows them.

* * *

**A/N** Once again a _huge_ thank you to everyone who has reviewed this fic. I was really blown away by them and they kept me writing over the past week even when I felt like giving up (I really struggled with this chapter so I hope it's ok). I also realize that this chapter suffers from a severe lack of Burt – don't worry, he'll be back soon!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

An hour has passed since his surreal meeting with Puck in the choir room and Kurt has to admit he feels better. Well, not just better, pretty damn amazing actually. His feelings of hopelessness and exhaustion have been replaced by a kind of contained excitement and thoughts that race so fast through his mind that he can scarcely keep up with them.

His feelings of elation dim a little when he is making his way to the cafeteria and catches sight of his reflection in the sheet of glass separating the hallway from one of the offices.

The memo from his brain telling his body he feels fantastic has obviously been delayed in transit. His eyes are sunken and blood shot, his cheeks are flushed and his bangs are clinging unattractively to his sweaty brow.

Suddenly he realizes it is no longer his own morose reflection looking back at him but the face of Sue Sylvester, who is peering at him through the glass, an eyebrow raised. He yelps and jumps back.

She slams open the door open and peers at him.

"What are you looking at lady face?"

Kurt flinches, "Sorry Ms. Sylvester, I didn't mean to…"

"First of all," she prods him in the chest with a sharp finger, "nobody stares at Sue Sylvester without first getting permission. Secondly," another prod, "Sue Sylvester does not expect to see one of her front-line Cheerios wandering round the school looking like something a rabid dog coughed up. You better thank your lucky stars you aren't wearing your uniform kid or I'd be forced to reach inside my pants, take my sacrificial knife from it's sheath and slice those hallowed garments off your scrawny, undeserving little body immediately."

Kurt gulps and wraps his arms around himself protectively.

"I'm really sorry Coach, I didn't sleep too well last night and…"

"I haven't slept in twenty-five years," she interrupts him, "and you don't see Sue Sylvester shuffling around the school looking like some kind of diseased, 19th century Dickensian orphan. It's disgusting. I should have you suspended for spreading your repulsive plague around the school."

"But…"

"You want my advice kid? Go to the nurse, get sterilized, and by that I mean submerged in antiseptic until you are no longer carcinogenic, and then forced to remain in isolation until you look less like a depressing little puppy dog that needs to be put out of it's misery and more like a world class cheerleader."

Kurt looks down at his feet unhappily, "Ms. Sylvester, I honestly don't need to go to the nurse. I feel great, really. I've been… running out on the track. That's why I look bad. I forgot my gym stuff but I want to keep my fitness levels up for nationals so that I don't let you and the girls down and…"

"Let me stop you right there pasty face. Are you telling me that the reason your face is the same color as the snowy-white dandruff that falls from Will Schuester's head like some kind of repulsive blizzard is because you've been putting in extra work for Cheerios?"

"Uh, yes." Kurt lies, shifting uncomfortably under her penetrative gaze in the silence that follows.

"Do you know why I work you Cheerios until you sweat blood?" She asks and he shakes his head quickly, "It's because adversity is good for you. Do you think Sue Sylvester reached the lofty heights she's at today by skipping through life like some kind of deranged garden gnome? No. It's because she treats adversity as an ally. Clearly a little bit of Sue Sylvester is rubbing off on you kid and you know what? I approve."

Kurt relaxes a little and suppresses the sigh of relief that almost escapes him.

"Here's some advice for you kid, there's nothing in life that can't be solved with a little determination and the occasional dose of cosmetic enhancement. Remember that."

"I will Ms. Sylvester."

"Here," She says, and tosses him a flask. Kurt looks down at it puzzled. "It's Sue Sylvester's Master Cleanse, made to my new improved formula. Drink it."

"Is it… safe?" He asks tentatively. He cringes at her glare, removes the cap and downs the bitter liquid, trying not to gag under her watchful gaze.

"I'm impressed buddy, you have a good swallow." She tells him with a slightly vindictive smile, "And to answer your previous question, I have no idea if it's safe. I finalized the recipe only this morning, so let me know how you get on with that."

Kurt watches her march down the corridor with a spring in her step.

LINE

Kurt's dad has given him a lot of advice over the years, some of it more welcome than others (the birds and the bees talk still makes Kurt cringe with embarrassment every time he thinks about it), but by far the most useful thing he ever taught his son was to Always Be Prepared.

True, at the time Burt was talking more about what to take on camping trips and hikes into the wilderness, rather than a need to ensure that a change of clothes and cosmetic bag were always within reach, but Kurt is grateful all the same.

He admires his reflection in the mirror, satisfied that his complexion is looking much rosier, and that he is now the very picture of health. And if he'd had to use a whole tube of concealer to get the job done then that was a price he was willing to pay to get everyone off his back. What was with that anyway? He was perfectly capable of looking after himself thank you very much. He'd been doing it since he was eight years old.

As he left the girls bathroom he swung his messenger bag over his shoulder and felt it connect with something at around the same moment that he heard a weird yelping noise.

He looked behind him to see Tina rubbing her shoulder, a pained expression on her face. Artie was close beside her, glaring at Kurt.

"Hey Tina! Artie!" Kurt falls into step beside them. "So, have you guys finished your Glee assignment yet? I was going to do a little Queen but now I'm wondering whether it's too depressing. I need something more upbeat, something I can really move to you know? I was thinking maybe I'd do a Michael Jackson number, I mean, his vocal range is very similar to mine and it's true I've never moonwalked before but how difficult can it be, right? Maybe Puck could show me a few moves because as improbable as it sounds, his footwork really is impeccable."

Kurt is puzzled by the silence that follows and turns to find that Artie and Tina have stopped and are looking at him strangely.

"Ah, Kurt – are you ok?" Artie asks him, sharing a look with Tina that Kurt can't quite read.

"I'm fine! Why do people keep asking me that?" Kurt snaps, crossing his arms and glaring at them. He feels his good mood fading away, quickly being replaced by a feeling of intense irritation. He taps his foot impatiently.

"Well, you just hit Tina with your bag and you didn't even notice." Artie told him, wheeling himself forward.

"Also, you have lipgloss on your teeth." Tina adds helpfully.

"But mostly because you're acting a little… wired." Artie tells him, glancing up at Tina again.

Kurt grits his teeth and tries to keep his temper under control, "Why is everyone on my back today?" He growls, "I am fine. No, I'm not fine, I'm fabulous. Fabulously fine." He glares at his friends, who look at him with an infuriating mixture of confusion and pity which just makes Kurt madder.

"Kurt, are you sure you should be at school?" Tina asks him gently.

Artie nods, "We were all worried about you after practice yesterday. Even Santana was asking us if you were ok this morning. And you don't look good. Maybe you should go home."

Kurt is sick of people criticizing his appearance today, like he's not the best dressed kid in the school. He's also sick of people telling him to go home. To leave.

And then suddenly it hits him. It's not just his dad that wants to be rid of him. It's everyone. Tina, Artie, Puck, Ms. Sylvester. Even Mr. Schuester had told him not to come into school today.

He feels sick.

Last night when he'd overheard his dad saying that they'd all be happier without him he'd assumed that he had been talking about himself, Carole and Finn. But now he realizes the truth: They would _all_ be happier without him. His teachers, his friends, his family. Everyone.

"Kurt?"

He backs away from Artie and Tina slowly at first. He hears his heart pounding in his head, getting faster and faster as the truth sinks in.

"Kurt, are you ok?"

And then he is running as fast as he can, as if he can escape the dismal reality of his situation; as if he can run away from the feelings of growing panic that are making his heart hurt and his lungs ache.

He runs until his legs give out and he finds himself lying on the football field which is thankfully deserted, panting and staring up at the sky. His bag had burst open as it hit the ground next to him and its contents are strewn around him.

The pain is incredible, it's the worst he's ever felt. He is aching and empty and confused and he's never felt so alone. He lets his head fall to one side and sees a flask lying next to him.

It has rolled from his bag and for a moment he thinks that it's the one that April Rhodes had given him months before.

He scrambles into a sitting position, unscrewing the cap with a desperation he didn't know he felt, remembering how for a few short hours it had made him feel like he could be anything he wanted to be.

Kurt puts his nose into the flask and inhales deeply, not expecting the pungent fumes that fill his lungs. He chokes, fighting the sudden nausea that has overwhelmed him. That was no Chablis. And then he remembers; Sue Sylvester's Master Cleanse.

Another memory tickles the back of his mind. Puck. The pills. He had felt better after taking the pills. He grasps around on the floor until he finds them hiding under some cleansing wipes. He pops two out and swallows them down with the remaining contents of the flask.

And then he lies back and watches the sky, waiting for the pain to go away.

A/N: I'm so sorry this update took so long. I've been having my own RL adventures and ended up in hospital! The next chapter is already half written and will be up asap. As always, thank you so incredibly much to everyone who reviewed the previous chapters. I've been really overwhelmed by the response to this fic and am so grateful to everyone who took the time to review x


	5. Chapter 5

Warnings: Angst, bullying, angst, angst and did I mention angst? These next two chapters are miserable. I promise it is the darkness before the dawn!

Spoilers: Up to and including Laryngitis.

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has stuck with this story despite the fact that I have been so terrible at updating recently.

**Chapter 5**

At first the clouds drift pleasantly before him and Kurt begins to feel better. More real. More alive.

But then begin to shift and swirl faster and faster making him feel dizzy.

They form shapes, nothing too alarming at first, a car, a dog, a dollar bill. But then they become clearer and he sees faces looking down at him, sneering and laughing at how pathetic he is. The faces are familiar – Artie, Tina, Ms. Sylvester and Mr. Schue.

He is under no false-impression that he appeals to the masses but in the past it has been Kurt himself who has refused to let people get close to him, hiding like a scared kid behind his wall of designer clothing and air of superiority.

Recently though, since Glee, things have been different and that scared kid has been peeking out occasionally and growing in confidence. For the first time in a long time Kurt Hummel had started to feel like maybe even he could have friends. That maybe there were other people in the world that he could trust besides his dad.

He should have known it was too good to be true. Trust makes you vulnerable.

In the end and somewhat ironically it is the fear of premature aging that makes Kurt drag himself to his feet and stumble back towards the school buildings where those pesky UV rays can't reach him.

Inexplicably Kurt feels a pleasant buzz running through his veins, pulsing and crackling and bringing with it a sense of rightness.

He doesn't need them. Not Artie, not Tina, not Quinn, certainly not Rachel, not even Mr. Schue (who seems to care so much unless you're surrounded by a bunch of gorillas at a dumpster).

The only person he needs is his dad and, thank God, his dad is willing to give him another chance.

Yes, everything will be ok. Tonight he is going to make his dad proud, let him see that he can be the kind of son that Burt Hummel dreamed about when he held the infant Kurt in his arms sixteen years ago.

Unfortunately, Kurt knows very little about basketball. Once, when he was ten, he had tried out for the Tiger Cubs – Lima's youth basketball team and he couldn't remember ever having seen his father so excited, certainly not since his mom had died.

Burt had bought a hoop for their backyard and for the two weeks before tryouts father and son had spent every spare second outside shooting hoops. Despite his height Kurt had been pretty good and he swelled with pride under his father's praise.

Unfortunately the other members of the team were far from impressed by the short kid with the uncertain smile and the uniform ironed with such military precision.

Kurt had lasted for ten minutes before he had found himself face first on the linoleum floor, stunned into immobility, watching wide eyed as the blood from his nose pooled onto the ground before him, trying to figure out why the other kids seemed to hate him so much.

And then his dad had been there, lifting him up and away from the boys' laughter and shouts of 'pussy' and 'daddy's boy' as the coach had tried to bring them to order.

Burt Hummel had wiped away the tears that Kurt hadn't even realized were falling and told him that everything was ok, but Kurt hadn't missed the disappointment in his eyes in the moment before he pulled his son into a fierce hug. It had made his stomach ache.

Since that day Kurt has avoided basketball like it was last season's Armani with an outward air of disdain and an inward clench of shameful fear.

Unfortunately, ten minutes experience on the courts means that Kurt is lacking the knowledge base he needs to be the Perfect Son at the game tonight. I mean, sure, he knows that getting balls through hoops is good. Aside from that, not so much. How will he know when to cheer and when to shout abuse at the players?

He enters the locker room, his brow wrinkled in concentration, and then it comes to him and a plan enters his mind, fully formed and perfect. There is still time and Kurt Hummel is going to succeed! But first he needs to find Finn…

* * *

Kurt sees his target standing outside the cafeteria, laughing with some of the hockey players he recognizes from his dumpster-diving days.

"Finn! Hey Finn!" He calls, his voice shrill as he hurries towards the jocks.

Karofsky smirks, "Hudson, I think your _boyfriend_ wants you."

"He's not my…" Kurt grabs Finn's arm and starts trying to drag him away from the jocks. "Uh, Kurt. What are you doing?"

"I need you Finn, right now. Come on."

The jocks burst into laughter.

"He _needs_ you Finn." Anderson mocks.

Embarrassed, Finn jerks his arm away from the smaller boy and pushes him so that Kurt is shoved against the wall. Kurt barely seems to notice as he recovers his balance and makes a grab for Finn again.

Suddenly he finds himself thrust against the wall, "Get your faggy hands off him fairy."

Kurt looks down at Karofsky's meaty hand at his throat, with an air of disinterest that seems to confuse the jock.

Under normal circumstances offending Karofsky (which Kurt is able to do simply by existing) means damaged clothing at the very best and damaged pride at the very worst (with actual physical damage falling somewhere in between – I mean he loves his Marc Jacob's jacket, but he only has one nose and he likes it straight and perfect thank you very much).

Today, or right now at least, Kurt feels untouchable and Karofsky is an inconvenience rather than a serious adversary. Like a fly that needs to be swatted. The thought makes him giggle.

The jock's eyes narrow. He probably thinks he looks dangerous, which in his current state Kurt thinks is hilarious. He laughs again.

"You gone soft in the head fancy?" Karofsky snarles, his sour breath offending Kurt's senses, "You think this is all a big joke?"

"Pound him Karofsky!" A beefy kid calls out. He has his cell phone out and is filming.

"You hear that fag? Johnson here things I should pound your prissy head in." Karofsky growls at Kurt, who is still grinning. He knows he should probably stop but he just can't.

He catches Finn's eye and his smile fades a little. He wonders why Finn looks so pale. He wants to ask but the pressure on his throat is pretty intense.

Karofsky pulls him forward and slams him back against the locker again, drawing Kurt's attention back to himself.

"Uh, Dave, you need to put him down. He didn't mean anything."

"Ooooh, Hudson's defending his little boyfriend." Karofsky gloats.

Finn flushes, "Dude, I'm not gay. It's just our parents are kind of seeing each other and…"

"Quit your whining Hudson." Azimio cute in, "All that prancing about with your little fairy friends, it was only a matter of time before you turned into a showqueer."

"I'm not a… look, do what you like to him after school. I really don't care." Kurt's eyes widen; Finn avoids his gaze, "It's just… I think I hear Ms. Sylvester coming. Remember what happened when Brown gave Josh Miller a black eye two weeks before nationals last year?"

"Hell yeah," Azimio replies, "kid couldn't walk for three months. That woman is possessed."

Karofsky's grip on Kurt relaxes a little as he processes this. Kurt is still staring at Finn, he feels the bitter tendrils of betrayal prickle at his skin.

And then it is all too much. He takes advantage of Karofsky's hesitation and lashes out at the bigger boy, knocking him to the floor.

For a moment Kurt and Karofsky stare at each other, wide-eyed in shock.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Kurt looks up, the fight leaving him as suddenly as it had arrived. Principal Figgins' expression is grim.

"He just attacked me, sir." Karofsky says, still sounding a little dazed.

"It's true, Principal Figgins." Johnson adds, "The kid's freaking insane."

"Boys, take David to the Nurse's office." As Azimio and Johnson help Karofsky to his feet, the Principal turns back to Kurt.

"Kurt Hummel I'm surprised at you. You will come to my office straight after last period. In the meantime I will be calling your father." Kurt's stomach sinks, "I do not expect to see such behavior in my school. I am disappointed in you."

Kurt watches Principal Figgins walk off.

"Kurt…" He looks up. Finn is still hovering nearby, his expression unreadable. "I didn't…" Kurt waits. "Just… never mind."

And then Finn is walking away too, leaving Kurt alone and trying to come to terms with the realization that it's over. He has lost. There is nothing left to fight for.

* * *

A/N The next chapter will be posted in the next hour or so (I know – a miracle for me!). THANK YOU so much to everyone who has reviewed this story, especially my repeat-reviewers – you are my heroes :)


	6. Chapter 6

Warnings: Angst, angst and more angst, please don't hate me!

Spoilers: Up to and including Laryngitis

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Somehow Kurt makes it through the day.

He doesn't speak to anyone; there is nothing left to say.

He doesn't hear anyone; he already knows what they will say and his heart has been broken too many times already.

He tries his very hardest not to think. He pushes the jumbled, desperate thoughts from his mind by reciting lyrics from songs over and over in his head and trying not to cry. He is angry and sad and hurting.

Actually, he is hurting a lot. He had almost welcomed the sharp pains in his stomach and chest at first as they had distracted him from his heartache. Now the pain has become so intense that he is finding it difficult to move without crying out.

He remembers the pills and swallows two down dry. And then another for luck.

The world starts to spin but he feels better. At peace.

He stumbles towards Principal Figgins' office and has nearly made it when he literally bumps into Finn and Mercedes who are talking in hushed tones near the water cooler.

"Shit, man watch where you're going." Finn snaps at him, rubbing his shoulder which had been knocked against the wall.

"I was." Kurt replies angrily, although this is actually a lie. In truth his balance is a little off which, he thinks, is unsurprising given the fact that he has had a very long and miserable day.

And if he thinks about it more carefully Finn totally deserved it. His earlier words to the hockey players come back to Kurt and once again he is filled with hurt and anger. He shoves Finn again, deliberately this time.

"What the hell?" Finn goes to shove him back but Mercedes steps between them facing Kurt.

"What is wrong with you boy?"

Kurt stares at her, his best friend. Her eyes flash with anger and confusion and something else that he can't identify. And then it hits him and his eyes widen.

"Oh my God, you're part of it." His voice trembles.

"Part of what Kurt? You're not making any sense." She moves towards him but he backs off until he hits the wall where he stands, staring at his friend, white-faced and trembling. She stops and meets his gaze, tears in her eyes.

"You _know_ what." Kurt insists, sounding broken.

"Baby, I don't. I swear I don't. Just let me…" She moves towards him again and he panics and lashes out, pushing her to the floor.

Finn, who has been hanging back looking confused up until this point, leaps to Mercedes' defence and grabs Kurt by the collar, shoving him against the lockers with such force that the resulting bang echoes around the hallway.

"What the _hell_ is your problem?" Finn snarls, "I've put up with enough of your bullshit today Hummel. Now give me one good reason I shouldn't kick your ass."

"Finn, put him down!" Mercedes pleads, getting to her feet and cradling her arm which had taken the brunt of her fall, "Something's wrong!"

"You want to know what my problem is _Finn_?" Kurt replies, his fight returning, glaring up at the taller boy, "My problem is…" He loses his train of thought and his eyes dart round at the small crowd that's gathered around them.

Finn shakes him to bring him back to the present and this time when Kurt looks back up at him his eyes are brimming with tears, "My problem is _me_. It's always been me."

Finn looks at Mercedes in confusion who gestures for him to let Kurt go. She tentatively reaches out to touch his arm but stops when he flinches away.

"It's me." He says again, his eyes glazed.

"Kurt…?" Finn asks and Kurt looks at him and the darkness is back in his eyes. Before anyone can stop him he darts through the crowd and out towards the parking lot.

Finn races after him, catching up with him easily. He grabs Kurt's shoulder and spins him round. Kurt reacts like a cornered animal and flies at him, bringing them both to the floor. Finn can only hold up his arms to defend himself as Kurt throws punches with a strength he didn't know he had.

"That's _enough_!"

And then there are strong arms pulling Kurt up and away, holding him back as he thrashes and kicks until his strength leaves him and he sags into what he realizes is his father's firm grip.

The arms that have been restraining him swing him around and he finds himself looking into the eyes of his dad. At least it looks like his dad, but it's a little difficult to know for sure as he keeps shifting in and out of focus.

"What the hell has gotten into you?" Yes, it's definitely his Dad, there's no mistaking _that_ tone of voice, although Kurt hasn't heard it directed at himself in a long time. "Finn, are you ok son?"

Suddenly his dad is gone from his field of vision and Kurt turns unsteadily to see him helping a slightly stunned looking Finn to his feet, "I'm fine, Sir, really."

"You're bleeding."

Finn shrugs awkwardly, "It's nothing."

And then his dad is talking to him again and he is saying things that Kurt can't quite understand. He feels like he's watching this exchange from far, far away. He wonders if he's dreaming. It's been getting more and more difficult to tell lately.

He jumps as he feels a hand on his shoulder and he looks up. This time his father's face is crystal clear before him and he feels himself getting lost in it's familiarity and it's strangeness as those angry eyes bore into him, full of anger and something that Kurt doesn't recognize.

"…Are you even listening to me?" His dad shakes him and although Kurt finds himself flinching away from his disappointed eyes and sharp words, he is also overwhelmed by a conflicting desire to throw his arms around his father and never let him go. Instead all he can do is stand in front of him and shiver.

"Well?"

"I'm listening Dad." He manages to gasp out and he feels his dad's painful grip on his shoulders loosen a little.

"I know you've had a tough time dealing with Finn's mom and me being together. I've tried to understand, to make allowances. I know you miss your mom, God knows I do too. But it's been eight years Kurt; eight long, painful years. And Carole and Finn make me happy. I thought they could make _us_ happy."

Kurt is trying to listen, really he is, but he doesn't feel good and the words are all blurring together in his head.

"And then I get a call from your Principal to say you've hit some kid. And then I arrive here to find you attacking Finn? You busted his lip. Finn's a big guy, you're lucky he didn't fight back."

Burt takes an exasperated breath and runs a hand over his head.

"Truth is, right now I feel like I don't know you anymore. Is this jealousy son? 'Cause I've gotta tell you, what I'm seeing here, it's pretty ugly."

Kurt watches as his dad's face, red and angry-looking, swims before for him. His cheeks are wet. He wants his mom. It's not over.

Finn appears next to his father, looking uncomfortable, "Really sir, ah, Burt, it's ok. Kurt and I just had a little… misunderstanding. But we're good now, right Kurt?"

Kurt looks up at the two faces looming above him, one angry, the other uncomfortable, and he feels the weight of their expectation heavy on his shoulders.

"Jesus Christ Kurt, say something. What's your problem?"

He tries, he really does but the words don't come. He grasps at them desperately within his mind but it's like grasping at smoke; they have no substance, as soon as they take a coherent form they are gone.

And at that moment Kurt knows that this is the end. He has blown it. He has lost. There will be no basketball game, no happy family, no basement bedroom or moisturizing routine. No more chances. No more Home.

His Dad shakes him again, "Kurt?" And then a little more desperately, "Son? Kurt, are you ok?"

He hears footsteps racing up behind them and someone is calling his name.

And then he is falling, and it is almost a relief as he feels everything around him fading away. When he opens his eyes again he can see the sky. It's beautiful.

And then the sky is blocked out by a face. It is a face he loves, and even though right now it is a face filled with pain, Kurt still thinks it's more beautiful than the sky.

The last thing he hears is a voice repeating, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," and even though his drifting mind can't figure out whether it is his own voice or that of his father, he thinks that maybe that it's not important, what matters is that the words are being said.

And as he allows himself to sink into blissful nothingness he feels at peace.

* * *

A/N: I never thought I would say this but I think I may have had angst-overdose. My next story will be full of sunshine and optimism… and also angels!


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

… slowed respiration, pupils constricted, possible signs of an overdose, what's his name?… Kurt? Kurt, can you hear me? Patient is unresponsive… Sir, you need to let go now, we need to get your son to…

_Kurt is not scared. He is safe in the dark. Mostly there is silence but sometimes he can hear words from far, far away. Words that drift down and touch him so softly he can barely feel them, like butterfly kisses. They don't always make sense but he takes comfort in their gentle presence. His soul sighs, he relaxes into the darkness that surrounds him. And he waits._

…_beep…beep…beep…beep_

... "There is no way, _no way in hell_, my kid would do that."

"Sir, you need to calm down. We need to face facts here; the truth is…"

"Don't you dare come talking to me about the truth. I'll tell you the truth – the truth is that I know my son a damn sight better than you do and I _know_ he would never try to… he would never… Not after… He just wouldn't. Ever. You hear me? Now leave us alone, I'm trying to spend time with my son."

"I'm sorry sir but visiting hours are over and…"

"Do I look like the type of guy who gives a shit about visiting hours?"

"Sir, you need to keep your voice down."

"And you need to piss the hell off and leave me alone with my… get your hands off me."

"Security needed, Room 80F, I repeat, security needed, Room 80F."

…_beep…beep…beep…beep_

"Hi Kurt. It's Rachel. Rachel Berry. From Glee."

"You don't have to talk to him like he's _stupid_ you know."

"I'm not!"

"Yeah, you really are. Hey sweetie, it's Mercedes. So, you need to hurry up and get better, ok? I miss you so much…"

"You don't have to talk to him like he's a _baby_ you know."

"You better shut the hell up. I don't even know why you're here, you don't even like Kurt."

"That's not fair. We've had our differences, mainly because he's clearly jealous of my superior vocal range and how my talent is considerably more socially acceptable than his…"

"That's it white girl, you get outside and wait your turn. I need some quality time with my boy, don't make me take you to the carpet…"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me…" _…beep…beep…_ "That's better, right Kurt? Just you and me. So, we're all real worried about you. They're saying you did it on purpose but I know you didn't. You gotta wake up and tell everyone else ok? 'Specially your dad. I've never seen him so… Well, you just gotta get better. The doctors say you're pretty sick and that there's a chance you might… that you might… but they don't know how fierce my man Kurt is. That's what I keep telling your dad. I don't know if he hears me. He's pretty cut up. I… I'm so sorry I didn't make you get help sooner Kurt. If I'd just…" _beep… beep…_ "Sorry, last thing you need is me getting all weepy on you. It's just, I knew there was something wrong and I shoulda dragged that skinny ass of yours to the nurse... That's the last time I listen to those puppy dog eyes, you hear me boy? I mean it…" _…beep…beep…_ "I miss you so much. Things aren't the same without you. I love you."

…_beep…beep…_

"Mercedes…? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine Rachel. I'll wait for your outside."

…_beep…beep…_

"Hello Kurt, it's Rachel again. I'm sorry if I was talking to you like you were stupid. I know you think I'm a horrible person and that we don't always get along but that doesn't mean I don't care about you. I want you to get better Kurt. Everyone is so worried. That's the third time Mercedes has threatened to take me to the carpet today – she's going a little crazy without you. Anyway, I made you a CD, your dad said it was ok for me to put it on while you're sleeping. It's of me singing and it will probably be worth a fortune once I reach the celebrity status I'm destined for. Here, let me put it on. I tried to remember all the songs you like; I hope I got it right. Get better soon Kurt."

…_Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation; Darkness stirs and wakes imagination; Silently the senses abandon their defences… Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendour; Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender; Turn your face away, from the garish light of day; Turn your thoughts away from cold unfeeling light. And listen to the music of the night…_

…_beep…beep…beep_

"So, your Dad's kinda hot. I like older guys. Do you think it would be weird if we made out?"

"He's not gonna answer you Britt, you know that right?

"Mr. Schue said if we keep talking to him he'll wake up."

"Mr. Schue is full of shit. What are you doing?"

"Kissing him. That's how they woke up Sleeping Beauty."

"Trust me sweetie, this is no fairytale."

"His lips taste weird. Like boy."

"He is a boy."

"Last time his lips tasted like strawberries…" …_beep…beep…_ "He didn't wake up."

"He's not going to wake up Britt. He doesn't _want_ to wake up."

"How do you know?"

"'Cause he took a shit load of drugs. I think that sends a pretty clear message."

"Why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying, I have something in my eye. I don't know what we're doing here anyway, it's not like he can hear us."

"But it was your idea to come…"

"Whatever, lets go find a laundry closet and make out."

"Ok, see you later Kurt. I know you'll wake up soon."

…_beep…beep…beep…_

"Hey honey, you're looking a little better I think. Finn and I are looking after your dad so don't you worry about him. He got a little upset yesterday when he remembered your moisturizing routine so I said I'd come help you out with it. I'm afraid I don't know too much about skin care, so I hope I'm doing this ok. Maybe you can teach me when you're better. I'd like that."

_...beep…beep…beep…_

…_there is a lady all in white, holds me and sings a lullaby, she's nice to see and she's soft to touch, she says Cosette, I love you very much; I know a place where noone's lost, I know a place where noone cries, crying at all is not allowed, not in my castle on a cloud…_

…_beep…beep…beep…_

"Hey Kurt. Uh, it's really weird talking to you when you're so quiet. Maybe it's better you can't answer back, you'd probably tell me to go screw myself. I deserve it. Kurt, I… I'm so sorry. About what I said in front of Karofsky and the others. They've been giving me shit about Glee and when you came over all… bossy and weird I kind of panicked. And I lied when I said I don't care about what they do to you. I do care. I guess it took this to make me realize how much. Not in a gay way! Just… I don't know, maybe like a brother? I guess that might be what it feels like… You… You said you needed me. Just before. And I just let them…" _…beep…beep…_ "Kurt, when you wake up I will make it up to you ok? I'll do whatever it takes. Just wake up soon."

…_beep…beep…beep…_

"So, I'm in a big heap of trouble Hummel and I need you to get me out of it so wake the hell up ok? Like, yesterday would be good. Seriously, this is why I'm a badass. Every time I try and be nice it comes back to bite me in the ass. I told them you were all messed up and I was trying to help you but someone told Principal Figgins that I used to torture you and now word is I was trying to poison you or some shit like that. They're talking about getting the cops involved. Seriously Hummel, I'm too pretty to go to jail. So wake the hell up and get me out of this shit ok?"

…_beep…beep…beep…_

"Kurt, it's your dad. How you doing kid? Did someone wash your hair? It's looking pretty good today and I know you care about stuff like that. That music's real pretty. Your friend has a nice voice. Not as good as yours of course. I miss hearing it kid. When you come back to the garage I'll let you play your music all the time ok? Even that lady who sounds like a kitty being strangled." _…beep…beep…_ "So, they tell me you were unhappy. That you were having trouble with some bullies in school and that you were having a hard time adjusting to…" …_beep…beep… _"Sorry kid, I'm ok. I just don't understand why you couldn't have come to me when things got tough. I called the cops on that Puckerman kid. He'd better hope the cops get to him before I do cause if I get my hands on that kid I swear I'll… Anyway, it won't come to that. He'll get what's coming to him. Son, we need to talk. I need you to come back to me ok? I'll make things better I swear just, come back, please."

…_beep…beep…beep…_

_Kurt waits in the dark. He knows there is a choice he must make. He follows his heart._

…_beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep…_

"Kurt? Kurt! I need some help in here!"

"Patient is flat-lining. Sir I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"No! Kurt! No!"

"We're losing him. Someone get his father out of here."

"I'm not going anywhere! Kurt, don't go, don't leave me…"

…_beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep…_

…_And when it seems as if your end is drawing near, don't you dare give up the fight, just put your trust beyond the sky…_

_I'll be your cloud up in the sky, I'll be your shoulder when you cry,_

_I'll hear your voices when you call me,_

_I am your angel._

_And when all hope is gone I'm here, no matter how far you are I'm near,_

_It makes no difference who you are,_

_I am your angel,_

_I'm your angel._

…

A/N: Is this the end of Kurt? Is Puck going to go to jail before Burt gets a hold of him? Is this the end of the story… actually no! I promise all will be explained before the end.

Thank you SO MUCH to the people who reviewed the last couple of chapters, it's so, so much appreciated. I would have abandoned this story long ago if it wasn't for you guys. I hope this chapter is ok.

I've made a playlist which includes all the songs mentioned in this fic. It can be found at www . youtube . com /view_play_list?p=6630A1E98A784620 (delete the spaces! Hope this works!)


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

_Kurt can't breath. It feels like he is underwater and he knows he is fighting for his life._

_He makes a decision. _

_He swims down, deeper and deeper, away from the noise, from the uncertainty and the fear._

_And then he reaches the bottom._

_It is black and silent; peaceful and certain. He feels himself starting to fade away._

_He knows what he must do._

_With all the strength he has left he kicks off from the bottom and shoots up towards the surface, towards the uncertainty and the fear, towards the noise and the light. _

_Towards life._

_And then there was light._

* * *

…_beep…beep…beep…_

The first thing he is aware of is a sweet whispering voice and the feeling of something cool and damp being stroked against his brow. It reminds him of…

"Mom?"

"It's Carole honey, I'm so sorry."

Kurt wants to say more but he can't find the words so he smiles at her instead, and then allows himself to sink back into a darkness he knows is fleeting.

* * *

The next few days are full of sleepings and wakings; of comings and goings. Kurt is vaguely aware of the gentle presences which appear next to him every so often. They talk to him and he finds comfort in the words he cannot quite understand.

He feels a tiredness that is all consuming. He can barely open his eyes so mostly he keeps them closed. When the soft familiar voices appear next to him he turns his face towards them like a flower to the sun and sometimes he smiles.

It is, Kurt finds out later, almost a week before he is awake enough to grasp what's going on around him.

He opens his eyes and blinks, taking in his surroundings. He is in a small room with stark white walls. He is hooked up to what he assumes as a heart monitor (_that damn beeping_) and an IV.

He is not alone. Carole is sitting on a chair by his bed. Her chin rests on her chest and her mouth hangs slightly open in sleep.

For a moment he wonders where his father is. He remembers.

_Last chance last chance …._

And he knows why it is Carole at his bedside and not his dad. He had blown it.

Catastrophically.

The knowledge makes him long for the darkness.

* * *

"Hey Kurt." A soft voice calls him from his dreams.

He opens his eyes to see Mercedes' face hovering above his own. He smiles at her and her eyes fill with tears. Suddenly he finds himself wrapped in her embrace. She squeezes him tightly and then settles him back down on the bed.

"Hey." He returns softly, his voice weak and croaky through lack of use.

"How are you doing?" She asks, taking his hand and squeezing it gently.

"Confused. What…?" He breaks off.

"You want to know what happened?" She asks, "What do you remember?"

Kurt has decided to give up trying to speak so he shrugs.

"You passed out at school, in the parking lot." She tells him, "Always the drama queen, huh?" She smiles at him but it is strained. "They called the EMTs but by the time they got there you were pretty sick. You had a kidney infection Kurt, it was pretty serious. Then when you got to hospital they found a load of crap in your system. They'd you'd taken… they thought you'd hurt yourself."

Kurt figures he must look as confused as he feels as his friend's expression grows concerned, "Maybe I shouldn't be the one telling you this, I'll go get your dad."

She tries to move away but he holds tightly onto her hand.

"No." He tells her, "You."

She looks at him seriously before nodding, "Ok," she sits back down, "like I said you had a whole load of crap in your blood. Painkillers mostly, but also something they couldn't identify. Honey, you were sick and your body just couldn't take it, not with the fever and the infection. Why did you take so many Kurt? You could'a died. You almost did."

The tears are back in her eyes and Kurt wishes he had the strength to wipe them away. He remembers the pills that Puck had given him.

He shrugs again, "Hurt." He tells her, "They helped."

He hopes that she understands because he really can't stay awake too much longer.

"Kurt, I know you're sleepy but this is real important. You need to tell your dad…"

Her voice fades away as his strength fades and he slips back into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Kurt becomes aware of the urgent voice when he is still half-asleep. It permeates through the darkness until it reaches his dreams and pulls him back towards waking.

"… and if he found out I was here he'd kill me. Seriously dude I'd be _dead_. Your dad's like King of the badasses. I'm running out of places to hide since he called the cops on me. Mom told them I'd gone to stay with my Uncle Albert in Canada. I don't even have an Uncle Albert in Canada! I'm a freaking fugitive man, it's crazy. I've been staying in Aretha's basement since Tuesday but her dad got suspicious so I thought I'd come hang out with you... Gotta tell you dude, you're not real entertaining right now. I think the spider in the Jones's basement was more fun to hang out with."

Kurt opens his eyes narrowly and sees Puck sitting against the far wall. Even in the dim lighting he can see the dark circles under the jock's eyes. Puck doesn't notice he's awake and so Kurt closes his eyes again. His brain is tired and he has even less idea of what Puck is going on about than usual.

"I really was trying to help you know." Puck continues,

"Truth is Hummel, I don't totally hate you anymore. Which doesn't mean I like you – we both know you're as annoying as hell. But seeing you all upset and shit, that really got to me. So I guess I must like you a little. Like a tiny, tiny amount. So get better ok? And we're totally going to have this conversation when you're conscious. When hell freezes over and Rachel Berry performs backing vocals for Aretha. Yeah, yeah I know her name's Mercedes."

There is a pause and Kurt stays very, very still.

"Hummel, uh, Kurt. I really, really need you to tell the cops I wasn't trying to kill you ok? So don't die. I…"

"What the hell are you doing in my kid's room?" Kurt hears his dad's voice. It is dark and menacing.

"Sir, I was just coming to see Kurt, I didn't think you'd…"

"You tried to kill my son."

"I didn't…"

Kurt suddenly feels very much awake. He struggles to sit up. He sees his father run at Puck, knocking him to the ground. For a frozen moment that seems to last forever Kurt watches the pair struggle on the floor by his bed, punching and thrashing.

He presses the call button by his bed.

He can't find his voice so instead he launches himself jerkily off the bed in the vague direction of the pair. There is blood but Kurt can't tell whose it is.

He grabs his father's fist as he throws a punch. The force of it knocks Kurt backwards and against the hard metal of the bed. The wind is knocked out of him.

For a moment they freeze, all three of them, stunned and gasping. Until…

"What in God's name is going on here?" A nurse storms into the room, her face like thunder as she turns her glare from one face to the next. Her expression softens when her gaze reaches Kurt.

"Sweetie, what are you doing out of bed?"

Gentle hands lift him and he is guided back onto clean sheets and soft pillows. The room is filled with a heavy silence. Kurt avoids his father's gaze, choosing instead to look at his own clasped hands and focus on getting his breathing back under control.

The nurse is out for blood as she faces Burt and Puck who are both breathing hard and glaring at each other. Puck has a split lip and a trickle of blood runs down Burt's nose. He wipes it away angrily.

"What is the meaning of this?" She asks, hands on hips. Kurt is glad he is not on the receiving end of her furious gaze.

"This is the kid," Burt grunts, his fists clenched at his sides as he struggles to control himself, "the one who hurt my son."

"I didn't hurt anyone!" Puck protests. Holding his hands up in surrender. "Hummel, tell him."

Kurt gulps and stares at Puck whose eyes are wide and pleading. Kurt doesn't like it. This is not the Puck he knows. He knows he needs to speak. He doesn't. He can't.

Puck's eyes narrow into an expression that Kurt finds much for familiar. It's not comforting.

"Thanks a lot." He growls at the smaller boy before dashing out of the door. Burt goes to chase him.

It's too much.

"Dad!" Kurt cries out and Burt stops in his tracks. "He didn't hurt me dad." He says, his voice small, "I hurt myself. Puck was trying to help me."

He sinks back deeper into his pillows.

"But why would you… Kurt, are you sure? 'Cause I heard that kid used to throw you in the dumpsters and those bruises and…"

"I'm sure." Kurt interrupts wearily.

He feels empty and he's struggling to keep his eyes open. He turns his back to them all and closes his eyes.

"You need to leave right now." The nurse tells Burt, already guiding him towards the door, "You know how sick Kurt's been and then you come in here behaving like an animal. You should be ashamed of yourself…"

Her voice fades into the darkness. So does Kurt.

* * *

…_Three days later_

Kurt hears footsteps approaching. He shoves his copy of Vogue under the covers and quickly squeezes his eyes closed. The footsteps get closer.

And closer.

They stop. They wait.

Kurt resists the urge to peek.

"Hey Kurt, you can stop pretending now, I know you're awake. You're real bad at fake-sleeping."

Kurt opens his eyes and glares at his best friend, "What do you mean?"

"You ain't that silent for one thing. You snore louder than my brother and I used to hear him through my bedroom wall."

"I do _not_ snore." He replies, giving her another half hearted glare. "Are you, uh… alone?" He asks her a little awkwardly.

"I'm alone. Relax. But seriously Kurt, what's going on? I know for a fact that Rachel's been in to see you three times and you've never been awake. At least that's what she thinks. I know you're avoiding her."

He thinks about denying it but quickly decides there's no point. Not with Mercedes. She really does know him too well.

"I really was asleep the first time," he tells her sulkily, "at least for the first part. When I was waking up I heard her say that everything happens for a reason and she's figured that the reason I got sick was to make her realize just how talented she really is."

"That girl's even more insane than I thought."

Kurt nods in agreement, "She recorded a CD for me…"

"I know," Mercedes rolls her eyes. "It was playing like every time I came to see you. Your dad really liked it."

"Well she said she never realized how talented she was before she heard it playing for the first time and that it reaffirmed her belief that she was destined for greatness."

Mercedes groans, "Ok, I get it with Rachel." Her expression turns serious, "But Kurt, why won't you talk to your dad?"

Kurt's stomach sinks and he avoids her gaze.

She takes his hand again and sighs, "Baby I'm sorry, I know you don't want to talk about this but your daddy's so worried. He knows you wake up for Carole and Finn. Why not for him?"

A long pause follows and Kurt looks everywhere but Mercedes. Eventually she sighs and grabs the copy of Vogue which is peeking out from under the sheets.

After a while Kurt feels himself relax and a semblance of normality settles over the room as his friend flicks through the magazine.

She is ignoring him.

He feels better.

His eyes wander over his friend as she reads and he frowns.

"When I'm better we are so going to the mall." He tells her, "Seriously Mercedes, your wardrobe _needs_ me."

"Says the guy in the white polyester." She retorts, raising an eyebrow.

Kurt looks down at his white hospital gown and pales.

"Oh God, what am I wearing? Please tell me that nobody from school has seen me in this travesty." He fingers the material and winces at the feel of the fabric under his skin.

Mercedes rolls her eyes, "Kurt, we were here every day. _Everyone_ has seen you in that 'travesty'. Trust me, it wasn't your fashion faux pas we were worried about. And don't think I haven't noticed you didn't answer my question."

Kurt flinches and looks down at his hands.

"It's ok." She tells him gently, "I won't make you tell me if you don't want to. Just… I'm here if you need to talk ok?"

He nods and is ashamed to feel tears prickling at his eyes.

They both look up as they hear footsteps approaching. Heavy footsteps.

For a moment their eyes meet, brown and blue.

"Kurt…"

But he is already turning away from her and closing his eyes.

Just in time.

"Hey, Mr. Hummel."

"Is he…?"

"He's sleeping." Mercedes' voice sounds tired. Resigned.

"Oh." His father replies.

Kurt feels a hand squeezing his shoulder gently, "I'll see you tomorrow Kurt."

The two Hummels are left alone in the kind of silence that can only exist when there is too much to say.

* * *

A/N I am writing this in a rush as I'm going to visit my parents for a few days so I really hope it's ok.

I know I say this every chapter but that's because it never gets less true – **THANK YOU** to everyone who has reviewed! It's so cool to know that I'm not just writing to myself!


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9  
**  
Until the shadow falls over his bed, Kurt is sure the person he dreads a visit from most is his father. He knows he is only putting off the inevitable but he isn't feeling strong enough yet for _that_ talk. He wonders if he ever will.

But then a voice rings out that strikes an icy fear into his heart.

"Lady face."

Kurt opens his eyes to see the cheerleading coach, adorned in a bright red Adidas track suit (and dear Lord were those shoulder pads?), towering above him with her hands on her hips.

Instinctively he pulls his sheets a little further up as if they can shield him from the brute force that is Sue Sylvester.

"So, my sources tell me you poisoned yourself."

"Well, I had a kidney infection and…" 

"And yadda yadda blah blah blah, this is where I talk and you listen, got that kiddo?"

Kurt nods, wide-eyed.

"Good girl." He can't help rolling his eyes. She folds her arms and her glare intensifies. "So, while you've been putting your feet up and dreaming the day away like some kind of bile inducing Disney princess, Sue Sylvester has been doing some investigating. Said investigation includes reading up on your medical history from the day you were born until this sorry state of affairs."

_Seriously?_ Kurt thinks, his stomach sinking as he mentally goes through his medical history searching for anything incriminating.

"I'm serious kid. And I got three things to say to you:" She crouches down and brings her face close to Kurt's own, so he can feel her hot breath on his face.

"One – you tell a single person about trying Sue Sylvester's new formula and I will make sure you're capable of singing those high Fs for the rest of your sorry little life, do I make myself clear? So they found a little Ipecac and XTZ in your bloodstream. That proves nothing. Furthermore I will make it public knowledge that you were a bed wetter until the age of eight and a half."

Kurt's eyes widen, horrified and he feels his cheeks flush.

"Two – Sue Sylvester has half of Lima's great and good on her payroll. You don't get to these dizzying heights without making a few connections. Said connections include cops, judges, medical professionals and the occasional local celebrity. Do you grasp what I'm getting at here?"

Kurt nods miserably.

"Well lady face, I'm glad we understand each other." She stands up and makes for the door.

"Uh, coach?" He ventures; she pauses and looks back, "You said there were three things."

"Three – get better kid. I can't take nationals without you."

And with that she is gone.

LINE

One of the few things that Kurt had been aware of during the hazy first days of his recovery had been the frequent, gentle presence of Carole Hudson.

Even before his brain had been able to decipher her quiet words he found comfort in her soft voice. She smelled of flowers and home and he would turn his face towards her as she stroked his hair.

As he began to get better she had become more distant. She would sit further away, her smile still gentle but a little less natural. Her words that had flowed like a gentle stream before he had been able to understand them became more awkward and stilted. 

Now Kurt wonders whether the tender moments that had carried him through the darkness had happened at all or whether they had been part of his dreams. Dream or not he found himself desperately missing the closeness they had shared when he had felt so lost.

And then she had started to bring Finn and things had gotten a hundred times worse. 

Kurt hadn't been alone with Finn since he had woken up and Kurt strongly suspected that Finn was only accompanying his mom so she could give him a ride home afterwards.

He would trail after Carole, hanging back as she sat next to Kurt and made awkward conversation. Not having the energy or inclination to try and figure out what was going on in Finn's head, Kurt had found that it was easier to just pretend that he wasn't there.

Kurt is idly flicking through a copy of Twilight that Rachel had left for him earlier when he hears an awkward cough at his door. He looks up to find Finn filling the doorway.

They both stare at each other for a moment. Kurt is not sure why but he feels a little afraid.

"Hey, Kurt. The nurse said you were sleeping..."

"Oh." Kurt replies, "Well, I'm not."

"Uh, great. So…"

There is an awkward silence. Kurt blames the medication he is currently on for the fact that his mind has gone unaccountably blank. He searches for something to say. In the end he settles for "So how's school?"

Unfortunately Finn picks the exact same moment to break the silence with, "So, how are you doing?" which leads to another awkward pause.

Kurt sighs, "I'm better thanks. The doctor says if my fever stays down I can try getting up soon."

Finn looks genuinely pleased and Kurt feels a little of the tension leave him, "That's awesome..." Finn shifts from foot to foot and looks indecisive, "So, I should probably go, let you get some rest. You look pretty tired. Unless..." There is a question in his voice.

"You can stay Finn. I mean, if you want to... you don't have to."

Finn looks hesitant and glances over his shoulder at the exit. Kurt feels his stomach drop a little and looks down at his hands.

"Actually, I am a little tired - maybe I should get some more sleep." 

He hears Finn shift and looks up to see him perching carefully on the chair by his bed. There is a moment of silence. Kurt feels uncomfortable and looks longingly down at his book. Sure the main character is drippier than a leaking faucet but that vampire guy is pretty interesting and…

"Kurt?"

He looks up and meet Finn's eye. The uncertainty is gone and now Kurt sees determination and… guilt?

"I'm sorry. I'm, like, _really_ sorry."

Oh, right. That. But as he looks into Finn's sincere eyes he knows he can't blame him. He can't truly blame his dad either for wanting a son like Finn. There is really nobody to blame but himself.

"Finn, it's ok. It's really not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."

"But… aren't you mad at me?"

"I'm not angry with you." Kurt tells him. "Just… look after him ok? He's not all that great at looking after himself sometimes."

Finn looks up, confused, "Huh? Look after who?"

"My dad." Kurt tells him and gives Finn a watery smile. "Try to limit his sugar consumption if you can. It'll be a struggle especially since he's discovered Ben and Jerry's Brownie Batter. Oh and make sure he only uses the low sodium salt – my Grandpa died of a heart attack at 56 and…"

"Whoa," Finn interrupts raising his hands, "Dude, I have no idea what you're talking about. Why can't you do all that stuff? You're not…" His eyes widen, "But mom said you were doing better. She said you were going to be ok. Oh, Kurt…"

"Finn, I am getting better. Getting up soon remember?"

"Then why are you telling me to do all that stuff for your dad?"

Finn's eyes are genuinely confused and Kurt feels terrible. 

"Oh God, you don't know."

"Don't know what?"

"But if dad hasn't told you then what were you apologizing for?"

Finn looks uncomfortable again, "For being such a terrible friend." Now it's Kurt's turn to be confused. Finn takes a deep breath and looks him in the eye, "You needed me and I wasn't there for you. Worse, I treated you like shit. It's just… the hockey guys, they are _not_ cool with me being in Glee. They keep calling me a Showqueer. It's embarrassing. Not that there's anything wrong with being quee… ah, gay, or anything, it's just… I'm not, and…"

"It's ok Finn." Kurt puts him out of his misery, "I know what you mean."

"Thanks dude. So anyway, I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm sorry. Like probably the sorriest I've ever been and I don't blame you if you hate me but I swear from now on things will be different."

"I'm not angry with you Finn. Some of the stuff that happened before I woke up here is a little fuzzy but the doctor said that I was pretty sick and those pills Puck… I mean, those pills I took made things worse."

"I should have realized you weren't yourself. It's just when you hurt Mercedes I kind of…"

"_I hurt Mercedes_?" Kurt stares at Finn, horrified.

"Oh, shit man, I'm sorry, I thought you remembered. She's fine, really, her arm was a little bruised that's all."

Kurt puts his head in his hands, "Oh God, what else did I do that I can't remember?"

"Nothing! Dude, nothing really! Mom said that you were so sick that taking those pills and… whatever else you took, made you act all paranoid and freaky and stuff. But everyone knows now! Well, actually everyone had kind of figured that something was wrong before. Except for me. I'm such an idiot."

Kurt takes Finn's hand. Finn looks uncomfortable for a second but seems to figure it's totally not gay to hold hands with someone who is in a hospital bed and relaxes.

"You're not an idiot Finn. You have nothing to be sorry for, I promise."

"Thanks man; that means a lot."

They sit in silence for a while and Kurt feels his eyelids begin to get heavier.

"Hey Kurt, if you're getting better, why were you saying all that stuff before? About your dad and the salt or whatever? Kurt?"

But Kurt's eyes are closed now and he feels himself escaping into sleep before he is forced to answer.

Just before the darkness takes him his hand is squeezed and hears a gentle voice whisper, "That's ok, I'll ask Burt."

LINE

A/N I keep almost abandoning this story but I can't bring myself to do it. I desperately need more Glee for inspiration. Damn you long summer break! Anyway, a huge thank you to those who have stuck with me and particularly to those who have reviewed – there will be more once I beat my muse into submission ;)


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The longer he stays in hospital, the more Kurt feels like he is fading away. Even Mercedes' visits do little to make him feel connected to anything other than the sterile smell and drab walls which surround him. He has become a part of them.

Mercedes tries so hard when she visits and, although he loves her for it, he just can't seem to _feel_ things like he used to.

His mind struggles to keep up as she updates him with all the scandals currently unfolding at McKinley High during his incarceration, her stories told with a dramatic flourish that Perez Hilton himself would have been proud of.

Things he would have found hilarious just a few months before now barely amuse him and, under his best friend's worried gaze, he finds himself trying to react to her stories as he would have reacted before… well, just Before.

It felt like he was playing a part. It was exhausting.

The general consensus seems to be he's doing pretty well 'considering'. His head certainly feels a lot clearer now he's fully weaned off the pain medication and, he is told, once his fever comes down he will be allowed to get up and leave the four walls of the room that has become his entire existence.

He knows he should be excited. The truth is he's terrified.

He finds comfort in the slow-paced routines set out by the hospital and in the surrender of control to the nurses and orderlies who care for him. He can barely remember his moisturizing routine now; it's all part of The Before which has become a distant memory.

The turning point comes the morning after Finn's visit. A nurse takes his temperature and tells him it's still not low enough for him to start trying to get up.

Kurt can tell from her face that she expects him to be upset by this so he coaches his features into what he hopes is a suitably disheartened expression. It seems to work as the nurse looks stricken.

"I'm sorry honey, I know you were counting on being up by now. I guess…" she glances behind her and lowers her voice conspiratorially, "I don't see why I can't wheel you to the washroom. Let you have a proper shower, I bet you'd like that, huh?"

Kurt's expression brightens and this time it's genuine. Sure, he's kind of gotten used to the bed baths (he hasn't really had a choice), but the thought of actually standing under a proper shower with hot water and proper soap makes him feel quite light-headed in anticipation.

As it turns out, the thought of standing under a proper shower was a little ambitious. Kurt is upright only briefly as the nurse helps him into the wheelchair but during those few moments his vision greys and his legs refuse to support him.

But that's ok, he realizes as the nurse wheels him the short distance to the bathroom, the shower has a seat! The nurse helps him onto it and makes sure the temperature of the water is just right.

"I'll be right outside ok?" She reassures him, "Just holler if you need me." She closes the door to give him a little privacy.

Right now she is Kurt's favorite person in the whole world. He doesn't even know her name.

He closes his eyes tight as the water splashes down over his head and shoulders and cascades down his aching body. He had forgotten it was possible to feel this good.

He realizes that during his stay in hospital he has forgotten a lot of things.

As the nurse dries him off with a soft white towel, Kurt lets his mind wander. For the first time since Before he begins to contemplate the future.

Since he has been in hospital it has been easier to detach and let the world carry on without him. Now he feels a yearning from deep within him for something he can't quite define, and the tentative prickle of something that feels a little like hope.

He knows he has lost his family. But maybe even that doesn't have to be forever. Maybe, over time, he can prove to them that he is worth something. Maybe one day his dad will hug him again with tears in his eyes and tell him that he loves him.

Maybe. One day.

But he can't escape the possibility that that may never happen and he will have to live with the fact that he just wasn't enough for his dad; that he was a disappointment and a burden. And he doesn't know if he can.

Live.

With that fact.

He has two choices: All or Nothing.

By the time the nurse helps him back into bed he knows exactly what he must do and, having made the decision, he feels a sense of freedom and relief.

"Remember, if the doctor asks, you haven't set foot out of bed since you got here ok?"

"Thanks… Elizabeth." He says, reading her name from her tag. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome honey. It's nice to see some color in those cheeks again." She tells him and with a wink and a soft smile she is gone.

Kurt watches her leave.

He reaches into the drawer by his bed for his iphone. He fires off a quick text to Carole and then settles down to wait.

It is time to take control of his future and put his plan into action.

* * *

Carole arrives looking a little flustered just over an hour later.

"Hello Kurt." She greets him, taking a seat by his bed, "I brought the things you asked for."

"Thanks." He takes the bag she offers him and has a quick look through it.

Pen – check; paper – check; sneakers – check; his favorite pair of jeans – well, she managed his third favorite pair and given the fact he had 86 pairs at the last count, he decides not to hold it against her.

"So, does this mean you're going to be up soon?" She asks him.

He looks up at her. There is a look of polite interest on her face. She is there but she is not. She looks… uncomfortable. Again. And it's unbearable.

"I think so." He tells her, "Maybe a few more days."

"That's great." She tells him. "Your dad sends his love. He's having some problems at work today but he's going to come by tomorrow."

"Oh, ok." Kurt replies.

His father's doesn't visit so much anymore. Kurt can't really blame him as he still feigns sleep as soon as he hears the familiar heavy footsteps approach. Maybe it's just his imagination but those footsteps sound heavier every time he hears them.

Even thinking about his dad is too hard; being in the same room is agony. Even Carole's brief mention of his name makes him feel lost and vulnerable.

The uncomfortable silence that has filled the room is making it worse. His stomach feels heavy with all that he has lost.

"Carole?" Kurt says. She looks at him and before he can change his mind he blurts out, "Did I do something wrong?"

"Wrong? Why would you think…"

"I don't mean in general, I mean since I've been in here. It's just…" He takes a deep breath, "when I was really sick I remember…" His voice shakes a little, but he continues, "I remember you being so close. And now it's different." He blinks hard, willing the tears not to fall. "I just wondered if it was because I'd done something wrong. Because if I have I really want to fix it before I…" He clamps his mouth shut quickly, realizing he has almost said too much.

He looks away, ashamed of his inability to control his emotions. Whatever happened to Kurt Hummel: Ice Queen? He feels a hot wet tear fall down his cheek. Another follows. He wipes them away angrily but they just keep coming.

"Oh sweetie, come here." Carole closes the space between them and perches on the bed, drawing him to her chest. Kurt freezes for a moment and then relaxes into her embrace. He lets his tears flow unchecked as she strokes his hair and rocks him gently.

After a few minutes she pulls back, squeezing his shoulder before reaching into her bag and pulling out a tissue. She wipes his tears away, then holds the tissue to his nose and says, "Blow."

Kurt obeys feeling his cheeks flush in embarrassment – I mean he is sixteen years old for goodness sake. But there are no witnesses and he decides that minor embarrassment is nothing in comparison to the relief of having Carole close again.

"Kurt, you haven't done anything wrong and I'm so sorry you thought that. I wasn't sure you would remember those early days. You were so sick and there were a few times when we thought… well, we're all so happy that you're so much better now."

She squeezes his hand. Kurt gives her a watery smile and waits for her to continue.

"When you first woke up you called me… you thought I was your mom. I felt so bad for you honey; you were fighting so hard and you deserved to have your own mother there with you, holding your hand and telling you everything was going to be ok, not somebody else's."

Kurt feels the tears building up in his eyes again and blinks hard, willing them back.

"And after that first time you would smile at me whenever I came to visit. Your dad noticed too and I think he was a little hurt that you responded to me more than you did to him so I started come alone, and I thought…"

She pauses for a moment as if gathering her thoughts.

"Kurt, I'm sorry if this was the wrong thing to do, but I thought that maybe if you thought I was your mom it didn't really matter. If that's what you needed, if that's what would make you smile when nothing else could, if it helped you hang on, then maybe that was ok."

She pauses to grab another tissue out of her bag and wipe her own eyes.

"When you started to get better I was so relieved. But I was scared too. I dreaded the moment you realized it had been me all along." She takes his hand, "Sweetie, I know it's been hard for you – your dad and I dating. It's a big adjustment and we're all learning. Sometimes I wonder if we've taken things a little too fast. Not for us but for you kids. Remember when you came home with your dad and Finn and I found you upstairs by the dresser?"

Kurt nods; it seems like a lifetime ago.

"You were so upset and everything inside me wanted to comfort you, to make the bad feelings go away. And then you pushed me away. I understand why but… I guess I was worried I'd overstepped the boundaries in the first few days when you were here. That if you had known what I was doing you'd be angry. And that you'd feel I'd been trying to take your mom's place. Does that make sense sweetie?"

She looks at him anxiously and Kurt nods again and gives her a small smile. They sit in silence for a moment but this time it feels ok.

"Carole?" He says again, "I heard you and dad talking. About… the changes that need to happen at home."

"You did?" Her brow wrinkles, "When…?"

"I just wanted to say that it's ok." He interrupts, "I understand."

He meets her eye and feels a moment of understanding pass between them.

"Kurt, I'm so glad you understand. We were really worried about telling you and…"

"I'm glad he found you." He interrupts again, "Well, I guess I found you really." He gives her a watery smile and she squeezes his hand.

"I'm glad you found me too honey." She tells him, "Not get some sleep. We want you out of here as soon as possible, you hear me?"

He nods and looks down at his hands. She places a gentle kiss on his brow. Just before she reaches the door he calls out, "Carole?"

She turns back towards him.

"I knew it was you." He tells her simply. "Maybe not the first time but after that... I know my mom isn't here anymore…" He pauses waiting for the familiar wave of grief to wash over him as it always does when he acknowledges Her absence, "But having you here meant a lot. So… thank you." He finishes.

She smiles at him and her eyes are wet, "It was my pleasure honey. Really, it was."

And then she leaves him alone with his thoughts. And the bag she brought him. He empties the contents onto his lap and grabs the paper and a pen. He begins to write.

"Dear Dad…"

* * *

**A/N**: I hope this is ok and not too drawn out and boring. I feel I have been wallowing in this fic for too long but am determined to finish it (mostly thanks to the lovely reviews I have received – thank you so much, your encouragement really does mean a lot). More to come – the end is finally in sight :D

And then I am going to write something a little happier (probably…!)


	11. Chapter 11

**Warnings: **Written while sleep deprived! Also possible spoilers up to Laringytis.

* * *

**Chapter 11**

Finn has spent a painful few hours watching the minutes tick by on the clock next to his bed. He doesn't get it, usually he's out as soon as his head it's the pillow. Sometimes before.

He tried running laps around his bedroom to burn off some energy. Bad idea. His bedroom is barely big enough to swing a cat in and there's so much junk on the floor he ended up putting his bare foot in a bowl of something that may or may not have at one time been pasta. Or possibly cereal.

Plan B was counting – always works on Sesame Street: One little sheepy, two little sheepies. Trouble is, sheep kind of creep him out so he switches to zombies, which is much cooler. He gets to 456 zombies before he realizes he's totally spooked himself and has to turn on the light.

As he does there is a crash downstairs that makes him jump. He tosses on his robe and grabs a can of deodorant (because it's the best weapon he can come up with at short notice – although the pasta/cereal concoction looked like it could do some damage in the right situation).

He creeps down the stairs and peers into the living area. Oh. Burt. Definitely not a zombie.

Burt has been staying with them since Kurt has been in the hospital. Only he hasn't been very… Burt-like. He has barely eaten or spoken and Finn can tell his mom is worried.

Finn isn't really sure whether to say hi, or whether he should creep back upstairs. Burt is in his dad's chair. Finn is still getting used to that. He watches the older man take a swig of his beer before putting the bottle down on the small table next to him.

Burt's eyes seem to catch sight of the photo propped up next to the lamp. He picks it up and looks at it, as if seeing it for the first time.

A tiny Finn clasped to his father's chest. Finn watches as Burt looks at the photo for a moment before, putting it gently back down on the table and wiping at his eyes. Was he… crying?

Shit, Finn thinks he should probably be back in bed. He turns away from the door but has forgotten he still has the zombie-repellant clasped tightly in his hand, and it bangs against the door frame.

Finn lets out an undignified yelp and when he looks back, Burt is staring at him looking a little freaked.

"Finn, buddy, you scared me."

"Sorry, sir." There is an awkward pause, as Finn contemplates fight or flight. But Mr. H really does look like a wreck and he decides can't just leave him. He gestures to the chair next to him, "Mind if I…?"

"Take a seat son. You having trouble getting to sleep?"

Finn shrugs, "Zombies."

"What?"

"Ah, I mean too much going on in my head. Thinking, you know? How are you doing?"

Burt looks away, "I'm doing ok."

There is a silence. Something is nagging at Finn's brain. Something that's not zombie related. Something to do with… oh yeah.

"Uh, Burt? There's something I wanted to ask you. It's about something Kurt said. Something I don't understand."

Burt takes another gulp of his beer.

Finn takes his silence as permission to continue, "Uh, so, he was telling me to look out for you. Something about making sure you were eating right. Not too much salt, that kind of thing."

"Yup, that's my boy." Burt sighs and looks up at Finn, "What you gotta understand about Kurt is, he's… well he's a worrier. Has been ever since he was little. He took his mom's death real hard and he got scared. I guess he didn't want anything happening to me."

Finn nods, "I get that. He doesn't want to be all alone."

"Right, so he got a little… over-protective. Took over my diet completely. Strictly low fat, organic low salt, no alcohol… he glances at the beer in his hand and grimaces slightly before putting it on the table.

"Oh. Well, I guess that makes sense. Sorry to bother you."

"It's no bother." Burt makes a noise that's a little like a laugh but totally isn't, "Good to know he still cares. You know, things with Kurt have been off for a while. And I shoulda realized. He was sick, Finn. Real sick, and he didn't tell me. Why didn't he tell me?"

Finn isn't sure what to say. He moves closer to Burt and puts an awkward hand on his arm, "He didn't tell anyone. It's not your fault."

"I'm his dad Finn!" Burt is almost yelling now and Finn can smell the beer on his breath, "I'm his father. I shoulda been looking out for him. I shoulda known. I saw the signs but I thought he was just being pissy and difficult. I accused him of being jealous and childish and… I don't blame him for wanting to shut me out. I'm a terrible father."

Finn wishes his mom was there.

"You're not a bad father. You and Kurt, you mean everything to each other, it's obvious. You're a great dad!"

"And these pills that jock punk gave him? Kurt says he wasn't forced to take them but that means he took them himself! Why did he take so many? Was it just for the pain, or… or did he…."

Burt is crying for real now. Finn feels way out of his depth, "Maybe I should go wake mom…"

"They were too much for him. He's so little Finn, he's too little. He's always been too little. It's my job to protect him and I failed. I'm a bad father."

"You're not a bad father! You're a great dad – Kurt is lucky to have you and he knows it!" Finn is almost yelling too now.

He sees Burt's eyes fall back to the picture of Finn and his dad. He seems to deflate a little.

"Finn, I'm sorry son. I shouldn't be burdening you with all this. You're a great kid you know that? Your dad woulda been real proud of you."

"Thanks. Listen, Burt? There was one more thing. When Kurt was saying that stuff about taking care of you? He didn't sound like he meant for like a few days or a week or whatever. He sounded like he was going away somewhere. Like, for good."

Burt's eyes snap up to meet his own.

"Going away?"

"Yeah, like, at first I thought he meant that he was getting worse and that he was going to… you know."

"He was talking like he was going to die?" Burt's voice is tight.

"No! Well, yes! That's what I thought at first! But then he said he was getting better. It's just he was talking like he wasn't going to be around for a long time. I didn't understand so…"

Burt bolts to his feet so quickly that it makes Finn jump. He grabs his coat, and runs for the door, still in his slippers.

"Where are you…"

"Stay here Finn, let your mom know I've gone to the hospital to see Kurt."

"Burt, visiting hours are over! It's 1am – it's too late!" Finn calls as Burt opens the door.

"You're right – it's too late. I shoulda done this weeks ago." The older man pauses for a moment and looks back at Finn. "I meant it, kid. Your old man woulda been proud of you. Don't forget that. Tell your mom I'll call in the morning, ok?"

Finn nods mutely and watches as the door slams closed behind him.

* * *

Kurt crouches in front of the wall in the hospital parking lot, feeling a little deflated. It wasn't that he'd wanted it to be difficult. It's just he can't help but feel the whole Great Escape thing has been a little disappointing.

He has spent the whole day meticulously planning his route, taking account of every possible complication down to the finest detail. Turns out - hospital security? Kind of lackluster.

Looking back he wishes he had accounted for the weather. The only clothes he'd had available had been the jeans he had Carole brought in and the jacket that he'd been wearing That Day.

As he had slipped out of the back exit, the wind had hit him, blowing his hospital gown up, and making his teeth chatter.

He thinks longingly of his Vivienne Westwood Cashmere jacket, lying balled up under his sheets in his hospital bed. It was a necessary sacrifice, he knows this; it was the only item of clothing he had with him that, when combined with his pillow, was big enough to pass as a sleeping sixteen year old. Even so, he can't help but feel a small pang of grief when he thinks of it.

Still, when he is a famous fashion designer in New York he will have so many couture high-fashion jackets he will be cleaning the toilet in them. Hell, he will be cleaning the toilet _with_ them. Except, of course, he will have servants to do that.

Short term loss for long term gain.

His fingers are numb, and it takes him several attempts to extract his iphone from his jeans pocket. His fingers fumble awkwardly with the screen but finally he brings up the number needs and presses the call button.

"Hi, Noah. It's Kurt… I have something for you and… and I need your help."

* * *

Five minutes later and Kurt is walking, his arms clasped firmly around his front to try and keep his chest warm. It has started to rain. His hospital gown billows out behind him like angel wings. He ignores his spinning head and aching muscles and focuses on where he is going.

He climbs the wind-swept hill behind the hospital, higher and higher and higher and higher.

He thinks only of his destination. And of the last time he went there with Her.

Trinity Point: The place where he had sat with his mom and shared memories just a few days before she had left him.

The next time they were there it had been to scatter her ashes over the edge.

Kurt had wanted to help his dad but Burt had forbidden it and made him wait by the truck, far, far away from where the ground fell away. Kurt could make out the dark streams of ash as they caught the breeze and were blown away.

That couldn't be his _mom_, it must be a mistake.

They sat in the truck for a long time after that, looking out over the view.

His dad sat there, his face gray as silent tears fell from his eyes and Kurt felt bad because he'd promised his mom he'd look after him and now he didn't know what to do.

He had taken his father's large hand in both of his own and held it tight as he held his own tears back, remembering what his mom had told him: Be strong and look after your dad.

And he has tried ever since, he really has.

As Kurt reaches the view-point he feels a childish need to have someone's hand to hold. He sinks to his knees exhausted and looks out over the town before him. It looks different in the dark.

The only thing close enough to make out in any detail is the old gray hospital and that is the last thing he wants to look at.

He crawls closer to the edge until he is so close that when he looks out, there is no ground in front of him at all; it's almost like he's flying, with Lima laid out before him in a patchwork of lights and memories.

He brings his knees up to his chest to try and keep warm. Raindrops and sweat trickle down his back. He shivers. The damp from the earth begins to seep through his jeans but he can't bring himself to care.

He looks out over the town and he waits. And he lets himself remember.

* * *

"_Isn't it beautiful honey?"_

_Kurt wrinkles his nose and looks at the view before him with a critical eye._

"_I'm not sure mommy, it just looks like houses."_

_His mom giggles and holds him closer. She is in the chair but he's allowed to sit on her lap. It's kind of cool, being wheeled around and stuff. Sometimes when his mom is sleeping, his dad takes him out into the hallways for rides. Or he did, until they plowed into that nice orderly and got in trouble._

_Kurt snuggles closer to his mom. She smells of hospital now, not perfume and cookies like she used to, but it's definitely still her. He's checked._

"_See that house over there?" He looks out to where she's pointing. There are lots of houses and they are all teeny tiny. "See the one with the bright red truck parked outside?" He squints into the distance and nods, "That's the house where you were born?"_

"Really? Cool!"

"_Very cool. And see the park just a little over from it? Do you remember learning how to ride your bike there?"_

"I fell off." He replies sadly.

"_You fell off the first time." She agrees and he hears a smile in her voice. That's one of the things he loves about his mom, she always has a smile in her voice. "But you got right back on and tried again."_

_"And I fell off again!"_

_She laughs, "But you kept trying and within no time at all you were riding all over the park, do you remember? All on your own! I was so proud! Even when you rode into that duck! And right over there is the school where your dad and I met. And that white church is where we got married. That was the second happiest day of my life!"_

"_What was the first happiest?" Kurt asks her, but he is grinning because they've played this game before and he knows the answer._

"_The day you were born of course!" She tells him and kisses him on the cheek. He makes a disgusted face and pretends to wipe it off._

"_Moooom, I'm too big for kisses!"_

"Wrong, kiddo – you're never too big for kisses from your momma. If I was here when you were thirty I'd still be doing this." And she kisses him all over making him squirm and giggle. "So you see, some people might not think this view is very beautiful, but I do. Because when I look out I see all of the places where I've been so, so happy with you and your dad."

Kurt takes another look out over the teeny tiny houses and trucks and parks and churches.

"_You know what mom?"_

"_What sweetie?"_

"I think it's beautiful too. The second most beautifulest thing ever!"

His mom smiles down at him, "And what's the first most beautifulest thing ever?"

"_You!" He grins up at her._

"_Even without my hair?"_

"Even if you had two heads and were all green and warty like an alien and smelled of ectoplasm like on ghostbusters!" He tells her, decisively.

"_Thanks baby." She tells him and holds him close as they look out over the town together. "Maybe someday when you're bigger you can come up here like I have and look at all the happy places we shared." She tells him, "And of course by then you'll have a whole other bunch of happy places to look out for too. Places you've found all on your own."_

"_Mom?"_

"Yes honey?"

"_I don't think I'll be able to find any happy places all on my own. Not without you." He sniffs and tries to blink away the tears from his eyes. Big boys don't cry, that's what his daddy says._

"_Kurt? You listen to me. I know you can do this. You and your dad, you make a great team. You'll be sad for a while, and you'll miss me. And even when I'm in heaven with all the angels I will miss you and count the days until we can be together again. But you will be happy again I promise. You are my wonderful and amazing boy and you have a wonderful and amazing life ahead of you. Do you understand that? Do you believe me?"_

_Kurt sniffs and nods._

"_And I need you to be strong and look after your daddy ok?"_

_Kurt wipes his eyes and sits up straighter, "I will mom, I promise."_

* * *

"_Hey, you two need to come away from the edge!" Uh-oh, his dad's doing his angry voice. Kurt's eyes widen but his mom just rolls her eyes which makes Kurt giggle._

_By the time Kurt looks up again, his dad's right there pulling the chair back further away from the edge._

"_We were perfectly safe Burt."_

"Yeah, yeah whatever, Kurt buddy, you need to get off your mom's lap. I can't push the both you over this terrain. You're getting too big."

_Kurt scrambles of his mom's lap and stands next to his father. He feels a large calloused hand take his and looks up at his dad. He has to look real far 'cause his dad's tall, like a giant. His mom says if he keeps eating all his vegetables someday he'll be tall like a giant, too. Cool._

_His dad's face looks sad so Kurt squeezes his hand extra tight. Together, they help his mom into the truck and head back to the hospital._

* * *

Burt Hummel arrives at the hospital, wild-eyed and soaked through.

He ignores the receptionist's greeting and marches straight past her, heading for Kurt's ward.

"Sir, you need to sign in! Sir!"

He marches on, and has nearly made it when a strong hand grabs his shoulder and turns him around. He is _so_ not in the mood for this and it takes a lot of restraint not to lash out.

Instead he breathes through his nose and growls out, "Yes?"

"Sir, visiting hours are over – you need to come back in the morning."

"I need to see my son." Burt growls at the security guard who is a lot sturdier than he looks, as Burt finds out when he tries to barge past him.

"You need to come back _in the morning_ Sir. Go home, sober up, come back tomorrow."

"Listen pal, I need to check on my boy. Now. So either you let me through or I'll…"

"Sir, you need to calm down."

"I'm perfectly calm," Burt snarls through gritted teeth, "I just need to see my son. His name's Kurt Hummel and he's just down the hallway, room 207. I can see his room from here! Now excuse me."

He goes to move away but is stopped by a different hand on his shoulder. He turns around to see a young doctor with honey-colored hair and a pretty smile.

"Hal, you can leave us. We'll be ok." She tells the security guard who glares at Burt before backing off.

"I'll be right over there if you need me." He tells her, his eyes never leaving Burt's. Burt glares right back at him, until his attention is drawn back to the doctor in front of him.

"You must be Mr. Hummel. I'm Doctor Smith – I've been looking after Kurt these past few nights."

"Nice to meet you." He replies, trying his very hardest to sound reasonable, "Now let me see my son."

"Mr. Hummel, it's not that simple. You don't need me to tell you that your son has been very sick. He still has a fever and rest is very important to his recovery. I'm sorry but you really need to go home, sleep it off and then come back in the morning."

"Please, doc." Burt feels something inside him break just a little, "I got some things I need to say and I'm real worried about him. His… brother told me something this evening. Something that's got me scared. Just let me check on him please. His mom's dead. He's all I've got."

Doctor Smith's expression softens, "Look, I'll make you a deal. If you take a seat right here I'll get one of the nurses to get you a cup of coffee and I'll go and check on Kurt for you myself ok? And then you really need to go home and come back tomorrow."

Reluctantly, Burt lets her lead him to a chair and waits anxiously as she heads down the hallway to his son's room. A nurse brings him a cup of coffee but he barely acknowledges her, his eyes are fixed on the door to his son's room.

A minute passes and he can take it no more. He barges past the nurse and rushes towards the door, flinging it open.

The first thing he sees is Dr. Smith. She stares at him, a puzzled expression on her face. His eyes, travel across the room to Kurt's bed. The sheets have been pulled back to reveal a white hospital issue pillow and a jacket that Burt vaguely remembers having to fork out a small fortune to pay for.

"Where's my son?" He asks the doctor.

"Maybe he went to the bathroom…"

Burt rushes through to the bathroom and flings open the door. The room is empty.

"Where the hell is my son?"

"Mr Hummel? You need to come see this." The doctor calls.

Burt rushes back into Kurt's room and she gestures towards the bed.

Lying on top of the pillow is a white sheet of paper folded in half. On it, in his son's unmistakable crisp writing is written "Dad."

Burt grabs the paper and reads the letter, feeling his face crumple as his knees give way and he sinks down onto the bed.

"Mr. Hummel?"

"He's gone." He says, in a voice that doesn't sound like his own, "Kurt's gone."

"I'm calling security." The doctor says as she dashes from the room.

Burt sits, reading and re-reading the words that Kurt has left for him.

_Dear Dad,_

_We both hate goodbyes so I decided to make it easier for both of us. I know I've let you down and I understand why you made the decision you did._

_I love you dad. Please take care of yourself._

_Kurt x_

Then he leaps to his feet and starts sprinting for the door.

"Mr. Hummel, where are you…"

"I know where he is! I'm going to find my son!"

* * *

**Author's notes**: Hey, if you're still with me on this one – thanks! I've been terrible at updating recently and I think my writing actually gets _worse_ with every chapter but I really am determined to finish this fic.

As usual a huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed. I've said it before but I'll say it again because it's true - this story would have been abandoned long ago if it wasn't for you guys so thanks again


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Sorry for the long wait! Thank you for sticking with me despite my painful slowness . As usual this is un-betaed and I am tired so please forgive any mistakes.

**Chapter 12**

Kurt has been standing on the edge of the cliff for what feels like forever. He stopped seeing the view long ago and instead chooses to lose himself in his thoughts. He tries to think of the future but the past has got too tight a grip on him and in the end he surrenders to it. It feels like saying goodbye.

The wind has picked up and his hospital gown billows out behind him like wings. In his hands he clutches a small white envelope.

He is broken out of his reverie by the sound of frantic footsteps coming towards him.

"Thank you for coming." He says, the relief clear in his voice, as he turns. And stares.

"Dad?"

His father has stopped about 10 feet away; his eyes are wild and desperate, "Come away from the edge, son."

"Dad, what are you doing here?"

"Please Kurt, just come away from the edge. Come to your old man, huh?"

"But… how did you…" Kurt's mind is reeling. "Did Puck call you?"

"Please, Kurt – don't do this."

"Don't do what exactly?"

"Jump! Don't jump Kurt. Please, I'm begging you, don't jump."

Kurt's eyes widen, "You think I want to kill myself?"

"You took an overdose, Kurt…"

"I didn't mean to…"

"Then you do a Houdini act and I find you up here. And that note… what do you expect me to think?"

Kurt stares at his father, "I expect you to give me some credit." His voice rings out, incredulously, "I expect you to know me a little better than that."

"Please Kurt, just come away from the edge. We need to get you warmed up and back to the hospital. You're sick."

"I'm _fine_." He spits out.

"You are _not_ fine Kurt!" His Dad yells; his volume surprises them both. They stare at each other for a moment.

"Just… go away. Please." Kurt says, turning away.

"I'm not going anywhere, kid." His dad's voice is now right next to him and Kurt flinches as he feels the heavy weight of his father's big jacket on his shoulders. He is so close that Kurt can smell the alcohol on his breath.

He looks into his father's anxious, blood-shot eyes and he is suddenly filled with anger. He pulls the jacket off and throws it to the ground furiously.

"Kurt what are you…"

"Don't you think it's a little late for this?" Kurt interrupts, his voice soft and cold.

"A little late for…"

"For the concerned father act."

"What do you…"

"You made your choice Dad. And I've tried to be ok with it, really I have. But you have no right to tell me what to do anymore, do you understand? You have _no right_." His voice breaks and he looks away.

"Kurt, I honestly have no idea what you're talking about. Look, you've been real sick. Nurses told me you still have a fever. You're not thinking straight son, please…"

"My thinking is _crystal_." Kurt snarls angrily, "I heard you talking to Carole. About what a disappointment I am. How I don't fit in. Well guess what dad – you were right! I don't fit in; never have, never will. Not round here anyway."

"Kurt…"

"And I'm sorry I don't fit your picture perfect idea of what a son should be. God knows, I tried. But you have Finn for that now, right? So go home to him, talk about the game, lend _him _your jacket." Lost in his rage and hurt Kurt kicks the jacket on the ground further into the dirt. "I'm getting out of your hair, just like you wanted. So leave… me… the hell… alone." He grinds out through his teeth.

Kurt turns away and looks back over the view; the streetlights below blur into thousands of tiny white halos through the tears he blinks back angrily.

The silence goes on for too long but he refuses to look back at his dad; waits for the relief of hearing his footsteps fading away in defeat.

They don't. All Kurt can hear is the sound of the wind rushing against his ears and his hospital gown billowing out behind him.

"How dare you." The words cut through the air. "How dare you think that. You honestly think I would try to get rid of you? That I would toss you out of your own home? _Our_ home?"

Kurt stares at his father, confused. He had been expecting guilt and maybe even relief, thinly veiled by a forced attempt at a tearful farewell. Not this furious stranger before him.

"After everything we've been through, you think I would do that?" Burt is breathing hard and his fists are clenched so tightly his knuckles are white. Kurt feels bewildered and a little afraid.

"Answer me damnit!" Burt snarls, taking a step towards his son.

Acting on instinct Kurt backs away. He realizes his mistake even before he feels the earth begin to crumble beneath his feet. Time stands still and for a brief moment all he is aware of is the terrible emptiness of the space beneath him.

His hands clasp desperately at the air, trying to find something to anchor him; to keep him from falling. They find nothing.

And then the world begins to tip and he stares into his father's eyes which reflect his own horror and disbelief.

As he begins to fall he sees his father spring in to action. A hand grasps at his own, clutching it tightly.

"Dad, no!"

It's happening too fast.

He tries to pull his hand out of his father's iron grip, tries to leave him behind, safe and whole.

Their eyes lock.

A moment of understanding passes from father to son.

There is no defying gravity.

Time speeds up again and the momentum pulls them down faster and faster. Hand in hand, they fall.

And just before the world goes black, Kurt hears his name called from somewhere far above…

**A/N – A list of apologies:**

1. I am sorry for being the slowest updater ever.

2. I am sorry for being so mean to Kurt

3. I am sorry for being so terrible at replying to reviews. They give me little moments of pure happiness whenever they arrive in my inbox and I really do intend to reply but stupid real life keeps getting in the way of all things that are not crappy work related. Anyway, a big collective THANK YOU and I will be better from now on.

4. Sorry for leaving you with a very literal cliffhanger! But hopefully it will make you come back and read more ;) And hey, the rate this story is going I might even get it finished in the next few years or so!


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

He can feel something hot and wet sliding down his forehead and into the creases of his left eye. He reaches up and wipes it away irritably, wincing with the sharp pain that his touch causes.

"Son, you with me? Don't move ok son? Stay as still as you can."

"Dad?" Kurt feels weird. Fuzzy and… Oh, shit – didn't he just fall off a cliff? He wonders if he's dead but quickly decides that being dead would definitely not be this painful. Or cold for that matter.

The thought isn't particularly comforting.

"I'm here Kurt, how you doing?" Kurt groans and starts to push himself up using his elbows. "Stop!" The urgent tone in his dad's voice makes Kurt flinch. "Sorry, sorry son just… look around you. Real steady now."

It's dark and Kurt squints, trying to take into his surroundings. He is lying on his back, his legs curled awkwardly underneath him. His hospital gown is gone. He glances up and sees it caught on a jagged section of the cliff-face, billowing in the sharp breeze like a white flag of surrender.

Through the gloom all he can make out is the rough ground stretching out a few inches past his left knee. Then, nothing. Which strikes him as a little weird because it's not _that_ dark now that his eyes have had time to adjust.

And then it hits him with a force that takes his breath away. The reason that he can only see the ground directly in front of him is because that's all the ground there is. A narrow ledge separates his aching body from the endless drop below.

He hears a whimper and realizes to his shame that it's his own.

"It's ok son, we'll be ok. We just need to stay real still until help comes. You understand me?"

Kurt nods tightly, trying to calm down. He closes his eyes and willfully slows his breathing. Soon he feels his heart rate following suit.

He takes another careful look around and grabs hold of a sturdy-looking branch which juts out of the earth behind him, using it to lever himself into a sitting position.

"Careful, son!"

He maneuvers himself so that his legs are curled beneath him as far away from the edge as possible and huddles against the cliff-face.

From his new position he can see his Dad, who is lying at a strange position, his right shoulder raised at an unnatural angle. His left arm supports the weight of his body and he holds himself slightly away from the ground. His face is pale and is covered with a film of perspiration.

"Dad, are ok? Why are you…?"

And then he sees it. Protruding from his dad's right shoulder is the roughly hewn tip of a branch which juts out from the cliff face, impaling his father and rendering him immobile.

"Dad! What…? How….?"

"Breathe Kurt, I'm ok. Everything's gonna be fine."

"You're not ok Dad! It's gone right through you! We need to get it out."

He starts to scramble towards his father, his movements uncoordinated in his panic. His legs scramble against the earth which begins to crumble under his feet.

"Grab the branch son. Now! You need to stay still ok?"

Kurt feels the white hot terror wash over him as he grabs desperately at the branch and freezes, watching as the very edge of the ledge crumbles away, sending the dirt and gravel plummeting down below.

"Kurt, look at me." Kurt obeys and looks at his dad's pale but resolute face. "I'm gonna be fine son, I know it looks bad but this branch saved my life. Right now it's all that's keeping me up here so looks like I'm stuck with it for a while, no pun intended." He gave his son a weak smile.

"But Dad…"

"No buts son, right now I'm more concerned about you. You took quite a knock to the head on your way down – how you doing?"

"I'm _fine_ Dad," Kurt retorts angrily, "I'm not the one who's…"

"Kurt, enough. I just need to know you're ok. Aside from the obvious."

Kurt feels himself deflate and when he replies his voice is small.

"I'm ok. Really. I mean, a little cold but… I'm ok. How long was I out?"

"Not long, five minutes, maybe ten? Long enough to have me worried though kid."

Kurt grips tightly to the branch with his right hand and uses his left to probe his head-wound. A lump is already forming but it doesn't seem to be bleeding too badly.

He feels inside his pocket and his heart gives a little leap as he feels the solid presence of his i-phone. Trouble is, he sees as he carefully removes it from his pocket, his phone is in significantly worse shape than he is.

There is no way to call for help, know way to know if anyone knows they are missing let along that they are here. It hits him just how badly he's screwed up.

"Dad?"

"Yes son?"

"I'm sorry."

His dad sighs and turns towards Kurt, his face tightening with discomfort as the movement puts strain in his shoulder.

"I don't know what you're apologizing for kid, but seems to me we're long overdue for a talk. And seeing as though neither of us is going anywhere for a while maybe you can start by explaining what the hell you were thinking?"

Kurt winces at his father's tone.

"Dad, I don't understand why you're so upset. I _heard_ you talking to Carole. About me. About how I'm not…" his voice breaks a little and he blinks hard, "How I'm not the son you hoped I'd be."

"Kurt…"

"I understand Dad. That's what I was trying to tell you. I'm sorry I got mad, it's just… I understand but that doesn't make it any easier you know?"

"Kurt. I need you to listen to me very carefully son. I love you. So much. I would never _ever_ throw you out of our home. You mean everything to me, _everything_…" his father's voice breaks and he looks away.

"But Dad, I heard you…"

"I was talking about Danny Garcia. Anna's kid. You remember Anna, right? She was real good to us after your mom died."

Kurt nods, his head swimming as he tries to take this in.

"Well, Anna passed away a coupla months back. Cancer. Danny was taking it real hard. I promised her I'd give him some work. Try to keep him on the straight and narrow."

"So you were talking about…"

"Danny, yeah. He's a good kid and he's had a rough time but he started turning up late; he turned up drunk twice. And then money started going missing from the cash register… Kurt, the point is I was talking about Danny, not you."

"Oh." Is all Kurt can manage as his mind tries to process this new information.

"And I'm struggling to understand how you could think for even one second that I'd talk about sending you away. Do you really think so little of me? Hell, do you really think so little of _yourself_?"

Kurt meets his father's gaze for a moment before his eyes drop. He feels ashamed.

Burt sighs, "Look, I know it's not easy being your age. And you've had it tough, I'm not denying that. But you gotta understand, it's not easy being a parent either. I screw up. I make mistakes. But I don't get what the hell I could've done to make you doubt the fact that you mean the world to me."

Kurt doesn't try and fight the tears that slip down his cheeks, "I'm sorry Dad. It's just I know I'm not… well, I'm different. I know it's hard on you. And when I see you with Finn…"

"Kurt, Finn's a great kid. But you're my _son_. And I don't know where you got the stupid-ass idea that I'd want you to be anything other than exactly who you are. Ok, so maybe I imagined having a kid that I'd play ball with. All that tells you is I have no imagination, you knew that already!"

Kurt gives him a watery smile.

"Truth is," Burt goes on, his voice deadly serious, "I never imagined having a kid as strong and brave and goddamn perfect as you. I wouldn't change _anything_ about you Kurt, not a single thing. Do you understand me?"

Kurt nods shakily

"Good. God, I wish I could give you a hug right now kid."

"Me too." Kurt forces out, "I love you dad. I'm sorry."

"I love you too son. And I'm sorry, so sorry, that you doubted that. Your mom… well, she always knew exactly what to say to make things ok. But she's not here anymore, you're stuck with me kiddo. All we got is each other. We gotta…" his voice trails off for a moment and when Kurt looks over his eyes are closed.

"Dad?"

"We gotta stick together." His father finishes, his words a little strained.

They are quiet for a few minutes. Kurt feels as though a weight has been lifted from his heart.

Trouble is, all that heartache had taken his mind off the frigid temperature and the fact that he was half-naked and half-way down a cliff face.

"Dad? Puck was coming to meet me. When I'm not there he'll… I'm sure he'll get help. We'll be ok."

When he gets no response he looks over at his dad. His eyes are closed and he is holding tightly to the branch poking crudely from his shoulder with his left hand. His knuckles are white and his face is strained.

"Dad?" Kurt's voice holds an edge of desperation, "Dad are you ok?"

"Hmmm?" His dad opens his eyes and smiles a smile that is calm and peaceful and totally incongruent given the circumstances, "I'm fine son, just gonna get some shut-eye."

"I don't think that's a good idea. Dad, you have to stay awake." There is no answer. "Dad!" Kurt is desperate. He begins to edge precariously towards Burt, holding on to anything in the cliff-face he can find.

He reaches his father's side. The ledge is narrower here and the only thing he has to hold on to is his dad.

"Dad? Dad wake up." Kurt pats his cheeks gently. They are clammy and feel cold even to Kurt's freezing hands.

"Dad! Please wake up! Don't leave me! Please Dad don't leave me!"

But there is no response and al Kurt can do is put his arms around his father's broad chest and hold him tight. And gradually his eyelids begin to droop and he follows his father into the darkness.

A/N: Once again I'm so sorry for taking so long to update, especially after leaving the Hummels dangling off the edge of a cliff. I'm afraid I've left you with another literal cliff-hanger (couldn't resist!). At the moment I have two possible endings and am deciding which way to go…

Thank you so much if you're still reading this, I'm so excited that so many have added this story to their alert lists and I hope I haven't let you guys down with my slow updates.

A special thank you to those who've taken the time to review – especially my loyal multiple-reviewers! You make me happy

To be Continued…


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

The first time Kurt surfaces it's to a tugging sensation. His head spins as his body shifts and he feels himself being pulled up and up and up and up. It makes his head hurt so he settles back into the darkness and lets it all happen without him.

The second time is more pleasant. There is a voice. A single, desperate voice and a soft beeping noise of a number being dialed. And then there is warmth and softness all around him which slowly spreads from the outside in.

The third time there are more voices. They are talking to him but he's too tired to reply. Despite the warmth and softness he is still so very cold. He drifts back into the darkness and listens…

"… _yeah, he's my brother. I got all the bad-ass genes. And the looks. And just for the record I get all the girls too, not that he... anyway. Yeah that's our dad down there – is he ok? Please, you gotta…"_

"_Son, calm down, it's ok. You can go with him…"_

The fourth time the ground is vibrating beneath him, _chopchopchopchop_. A clammy hand holds his own.

The fifth time he surfaces it is to the unmistakable sounds and smells of a hospital. For a few precious moments he forgets that he hasn't been here the whole time.

The first unusual thing he notices is that he is dressed in a giant grey sweater. The sleeves are rolled up to reveal an IV in his arm, which is mottled with scratches and dirt.

Then the memories of the past hours flood back in with tsunami strength and he bolts upright.

"Dad!" He cries out. He pushes desperately at the call button by his bed.

Within seconds a male nurse enters his room, a slender industrious looking man in his late twenties.

"Kurt, it's good to see you awake buddy. I'm Matt – how are you feeling?" He asks as he flicks through Kurt's chart.

"My dad – how's my dad? Is he ok? Is he… is he…"

"Your dad's alive." Matt interrupts, putting the chart down and sitting on the chair near Kurt's bed. There is a 'but' in his eyes.

"Can I see him?"

"Kurt, he's in surgery. His injuries are pretty severe. The doctors are doing everything they can…"

Kurt slumps back into his pillows, feeling suddenly exhausted.

"He's in good hands Kurt. The best thing you can do for him right now is rest. You were in bad shape yourself when you came in. You're lucky your brother came along when he did."

"My brother?" Kurt wrinkles his brow in confusion.

"He's fine Kurt. He's getting checked out by the doctors but it's just a precaution." There is a sound at the door and a forlorn figure wrapped in a blanket shuffles in. "Ah, here he is now. You're looking a little warmer, buddy."

"Puck? What are you doing…"

"Hey, bro." Puck interjects pointedly.

"Umm… ok." Kurt shakes his head, trying to clear the fog that's settled in his brain.

"You know Kurt, we had your records faxed through to us and they don't mention a brother…" Matt says, a twinkle in his eye. Puck shifts guiltily, his face pale and miserable and Matt takes pity on him.

"Sit down before you fall down." He tells him firmly getting out of the chair gesturing for Puck to take his place.

"Thanks." Puck mutters and slumps down in it ungracefully.

"I guess stranger things have happened than mysterious brothers popping outta the woodwork. Now you get some rest Kurt. I'll make sure someone comes in to see you the second there's news about your father, ok?"

Kurt nods, "Thanks." He says, trying to return the reassuring smile the nurse gives as he leaves the room.

"Puck – what are you doing here?" Kurt asks, his tone accusatory, more borne of habit than anything else.

"Saving your sorry ass, that's what." Puck says, looking angrily at Kurt.

Kurt shifts under his glare, "I'm sorry, I was just surprised to see you and… my heads a little confused. How did I get here? How did dad get here?"

Puck's expression brightens, "Dude, you're not gonna believe this but we got choppered in. As in _helicopter_. It was seriously cool. Get to cross that one off my to do list!"

"You have a to do list?" Kurt asks skeptically.

"Yeah well, it's a bad ass to do list." Puck says defensively, "I would tell you what else is on it but I don't want to corrupt you. Anyways, I got to the make-out point…"

"The make out point?"

"Yeah, that's what it's called. So, you weren't there, or I didn't think you were, and I was seriously pissed 'cause I had to break into your house to get that stuff you wanted dude, and I'm already on your dad's hit list." He pauses and glares at Kurt for a moment as if this is his entire fault. Although, Kurt thinks, it kind of is.

"So what make you look over the edge?" Kurt asks, his curiosity helping to push back the more troubling thoughts swirling around his head.

"I saw this weird white thing blowing around. I thought it might be a ghost or something…"

"A ghost?" Kurt asks, one eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, so what? _'See a ghost'_, that's another thing on my bad-ass to do list. But it wasn't a ghost; I think it was your hospital dress thing. But when I looked over I saw you and your dad. I thought you were dead, Hummel."

For a moment Puck looks haunted and Kurt feels guilty.

"That must have been scary. I'm sorry."

Puck shakes his head as if to clear it and continues, "So I climbed down and pulled you up…"

"You _what_?" Kurt squeaks, "Puck are you _insane_? You could have been killed!"

"Nah," Puck shrugs, "I'm pretty good at climbing. Although I gotta say, you're heavier than you look man. I couldn't get your dad though. He was… stuck." He shudders and glances at Kurt uncertainly, unsure of what he can remember.

"I know." Kurt tells him, "The branch…"

"He'll be ok dude."

Kurt looks away, "I hope so." He says quietly. "Puck, thank you for coming. I wasn't sure you'd show."

"Well, I kinda hoped you were going to give me something to get me off the hook with the whole 'trying to poison you' thing." Puck shrugs.

"Oh. Actually I was. I'd written a letter to the principal. I was going to give it to you before I went away. I'll write you another one."

Puck rolls his eyes, "Gee, thanks. And what do you mean before you went away? And what the hell were you and your dad doing dangling off the edge of a cliff anyway? Besides giving me a freaking heart attack."

"Dad found me before you did. We had an argument and I slipped. He tried to catch me and we both fell…" He shudders and closes his eyes as his mind replays the horror of those moments. "My dad and I, we had a little… misunderstanding. I heard him telling Finn's mom that I was a disappointment. That I'd let him down and that he was thinking of kicking me out. I thought he didn't care about me and…"

"Dude, there's no way your dad would say that about you!" Puck interrupts, making Kurt jump and look up. Puck looks a little embarrassed at his outburst and shrugs, "I'm just sayin'… I know what it's like to have a dad that doesn't give a shit. You're dad ain't like that."

"Noah, I…"

"No, hear me out Hummel, I'm serious. Your dad got you that kick-ass car for your birthday right? No way he'd have done that if he was thinking of kicking you out. Last time my old man remembered my birthday I was _seven_. Plus old man Hummel was totally gonna kick my ass when he thought I'd poisoned you. My dad would'a probably shaken your hand if he thought you'd tried to gank me. He's not big on child support. You're dad's pretty awesome, man."

Kurt suddenly feels ashamed and he looks away from Puck's earnest face.

"You're right," He agrees quietly, "turns out, he was talking about someone else."

"Well, I could'a told you that." Puck tells him scornfully, "Seriously Hummel, I thought you were meant to be smart."

"I'm not smart at all." Kurt replies, failing to keep the tears out of his voice, "And now my dad could _die_ because of me. If I hadn't been so _stupid_…"

He is startled out of his rant when he feels a gentle touch and stares at Puck's hand on his arm. Puck looks embarrassed and snatches his hand back but his expression remains serious.

"He'll be ok dude."

They sit in silence for a few moments but it's not uncomfortable.

Kurt is the one who breaks it, "You saved my life Puck. My dad's too. Thank you."

Puck meets his eyes for a second and Kurt thinks he sees a flicker of uncertainty there. Then he shrugs and looks away.

"No big deal."

"Of course it's a big deal." Kurt replies, exasperated, "You're a hero Noah."

"Dude, no Disney moments unless you want me puking all over your sick bed. Anyway, I did it for the chicks. Chicks dig heros." He smirks and can't help but smile back, the atmosphere lightening for a moment. "I would like my sweater back though. When you're done with it I mean."

Kurt looks down at the gray sweater that swamps him, "This is yours? You gave me your sweater?" He is genuinely touched by the gesture. Puck looks embarrassed.

"Well, you'd gone kind of blue. You looked like a freaking smurf…"

"Kurt Hummel?"

Both Kurt and Puck look up to see a bearded middle-aged man in hospital scrubs at the door. In the flash of an eye the tension returns to the pit of Kurt's stomach, like a ball of fiery ice.

"That's me." Kurt says in a small voice, staring at the man's face, desperately trying to read his expression.

"Kurt, I have news about your father…"

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and sorry I haven't replied personally. The new series has been fulfilling my Kurt Angst quotient which has meant I've been spending less time on here and hardly any time writing. Anyway, we are finally nearing the end wheeeeey! Thanks for sticking with me ;)


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Puck half stands, looking uncharacteristically hesitant.

"Should I go?"

"Stay." Kurt says, grasping at Puck's arm and pulling him back down without even looking at him. "My dad…" his voice is little more than a whisper and he fists the sheets so hard that his knuckles are as white as his face, "Please. Tell me he's ok."

The doctor's face remains serious but there's a gentle expression in his eyes.

"Your father came through surgery Kurt; his vitals are strong and we're very hopeful that he'll make a full recovery."

Kurt lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Can I see him?" He asks.

"Soon." The surgeon tells him, "He's in recovery now but I'll have someone let you know when he's awake."

"Thank you." Kurt says.

"You're very welcome." The surgeon tells him, a smile in his voice, "We'll soon have you both back on your feet. Now there's a lady waiting down the hall who'll be glad to know you're awake. I'll send her in." He nods at Kurt and takes his leave.

Kurt wrinkles his brow, puzzled for a moment, before Carole's face pops into his mind. He groans and slumps back into his pillows.

"What's up dude?" Puck asks, causing Kurt, who'd momentarily forgotten he was there, to jump.

"Carole." He says simply.

"Shit! Finn's mom Carole? I gotta go bro, last time I saw Finn's mom she threatened to rip my head off and use it for soccer practice. I'm not kidding man, she's had this look in her eye... And that was before she thought I poisoned you!"

"Yes, well, get in line." Kurt tells him glumly, "I nearly killed her boyfriend. Or… gentleman companion… whatever old people dating is called."

He looks up at Puck, who's gotten to his feet a little unsteadily and is clasping the blanket around himself looking genuinely panicked. Kurt stores this image away filing it under, "Prime Blackmail Material" for the next dumpster toss or patriotic wedgie.

But then he thinks that maybe those days are over.

His musings are interrupted by an audible gulp from Puck as Carole enters the room. She spots Puck and freezes for a moment, looking at him with an expression that Kurt is unable to read. For a moment Kurt is genuinely scared for him.

As Puck's eyes dart around the room as if looking for an escape route, Carole closes the space between them swiftly, opens her arms and envelopes Puck in a hearfelt hug.

Kurt watches Puck's eyes widen over her shoulder as he stands stiffly, as if he's still not convinced she's not trying to suffocate him or something.

She pulls away and holds him away from her at arms length.

"You saved my boys Noah." She says, "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Puck looks uncomfortable and slightly sheepish, "It's no big deal, Mrs. H, really." He tells her.

"It is to me." She tells him, pulling him in again and this time, seemingly convinced that her intention is not to kill him with love, he relaxes a little into her embrace, and pats her back awkwardly. "I won't forget it Noah, I mean it."

Her eyes are moist as she pulls back and squeezes his arm gently.

Her eyes drift from Puck to Kurt. He drops his gaze and stares at his hands.

"Puck honey – go put some clothes on and I'll give you a ride home ok?"

Puck shrugs and heads for the door, "I'm glad your dad's better dude."

"Thanks Puck." Whispers Kurt as he watches the football player leave, wishing he had the strength to follow him out.

He hears Carole move closer but he can't bring himself to look at her, not even when he feels her take his hand.

Her skin is warm and soft, probably at least partially due to the shea butter hand masque he'd recommended, he thinks distractedly. The thought of those hopeful days when he had taken Carole on as his build-your-own-stepmom project makes his chest ache.

How did things get so screwed up? How did _he_ get so screwed up? He feels a fat wet tear slide a silvery path down his cheek.

"I'm sorry Carole, I'm so sorry." He croaks.

"Shh," Carole tells him, stroking his hand with her thumbs, "You've got nothing to be sorry for Kurt. You're ok. Your dad's ok. That's all that matters."

"No!" Kurt tells her, pulling his hand out of her grip and struggling to sit more upright in the bed so he can meet her eyes like a man, "You're wrong Carole, I have _everything_ to be sorry for. I'm selfish and stupid and…"

"Kurt calm down," She interrupts, "You've lost me. Why don't you start from the beginning?"

Kurt takes a deep breath.

"I thought dad didn't want me anymore." He blurts out, "I thought I heard you talking about me. Saying I wasn't good enough, that I didn't fit in and… it made sense you know? A guy like dad? He deserves a son like Finn. Someone he can relate to. That he can really understand. I just screw things up. I don't mean to, but… I make things hard for him. So I could understand it when I heard… when I thought I heard him saying those things about me."

"Oh Kurt." Carole's voice is sad and tired.

"I thought he was throwing me out." Kurt continues, "I thought it would make things easier if I left first. I'd have been ok, I just needed to get some stuff together so I asked Puck to bring them to me. That's why he was there when… that's why he was there."

Carole nods encouragingly. Kurt clears his throat and continues.

"But Dad found me first. On the cliff where we used to go with mom. And we got in a fight and I don't know how it happened but I was falling and Dad tried to stop me but I just pulled him down. I could have killed him Carole! He could still die and it's all my fault!"

"Kurt, I need you to look at me." Carole's voice is firm and leaves no room for discussion. Kurt drags his gaze up to meet hers. "It's not your fault." She tells him, "If anything it's mine."

"It's not…!"

"Let me finish. I knew this relationship was going to be hard on you boys," She continues, "I should have been paying more attention. I was just so thrilled to see your dad and Finn getting along so well, I lost sight of you for a while. That was very wrong of me Kurt and I'm truly sorry."

"It's ok," Kurt sniffs, "it's not your fault."

"It's not _all_ my fault." She replies, "But I could have handled things a lot better. Truth is your Dad is so obviously crazy about you that it never even crossed my mind that you'd doubt that."

"Really?" Kurt asks, hating the uncertainty in his voice.

"Really." She says, firmly. "Truth is I've never seen a guy so totally in love with his kid."

"Oh." Kurt says in a small voice.

Carole sighs, "Honey you need to stop being so hard on yourself." She smiles at him sadly and takes his hand again, "Having teenage kids is tough, but you have to remember that _every_ kid comes with their own set of challenges to overcome. If it's not sexuality it's bullying or drugs or teen pregnancy. It's our job as parents to worry about you. And, if we're lucky enough, we get to learn our own lessons right along side you. And if we pick up a few extra gray hairs along the way then it's more than worth it!" She squeezes his hand, "_You're_ worth it Kurt and your dad is _so _proud of you."

Kurt wipes his eyes roughly with the back of his hand and gives her a wobbly smile, "Thanks Carole."

"Come here you." She tells him and pulls him into a hug. Kurt inhales her sweet familiar scent and feels a kind of peace settle over him.

A cleared throat in the doorway forces them to pull reluctantly apart. It's Nurse Matt.

"Sorry to interrupt," He grins, "but your dad's awake and he's demanding to see you right now. Quite the grizzly bear isn't he?"

"He's awake?" Kurt squeaks in delight, already starting to tug at the sheets and push himself off the bed.

"Hold it right there Champ, you're not walking anywhere for a while."

Kurt's face falls in disappointment. "But…"

But Matt dashes out of the room, and quickly returns pulling something back in with him, "Your chariot awaits sir." He says, gesturing grandly to the hospital-issue wheelchair.

Kurt grins and Carole helps him shuffle into it. "You ready?" She asks him once he's sitting comfortably.

"I'm ready." He replies, unable to keep the smile from his face as she pushes him towards the door and towards his father whose love he will never doubt again.

LINE

A/N Once again I am sorry for being the slowest author in the history of forever. Endings are hard. I've learnt so much from writing this story and, if I do decide to write another one, I know it will be a lot better. Thank you so much to everyone who's stuck by me and to those have added this story to their alerts and favorites. Once again a big thank you to those who have reviewed. I love you guys! Fifteen chapters down, one to go!


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Burt's eyes are closed as they enter the sterile hospital room. Beneath his hospital gown Kurt can see that his shoulder is heavily bandaged. Tubes weave under his hospital gown and from the back of his hand. Kurt's fragile stomach contracts and he gulps, tears stinging his eyes.

Carole seems to sense his distress and squeezes his shoulder gently before moving ahead of him into the room and kissing Burt lightly on the forehead.

"Burt Hummel, I hope you realize you scared me half to death. I've aged twenty years since this morning." She tells him softly, her voice teasing.

Burt's eyes open and his face relaxes into a smile.

"Well, you still look beautiful to me." He tells her. His voice is weak and gravelly but he still sounds like Dad and Kurt feels one hundred pounds lighter. "How's my boy?"

Kurt, who's been studying his father carefully, suddenly finds himself under the same scrutiny. He looks away and chews his lip.

"I'm ok."

A throat is cleared behind them and a freshly-dressed Puck stands in the doorway with his hands shoved firmly into the pockets of his jeans looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"Sorry, I, uh… didn't mean to interrupt. The nurse guy told me you were here and I thought… but I think he still thinks we're brothers Kurt and… well, it's ok Mrs. H I can find my own way home and…"

"Noah," Carole interrupts to everyone's relief, "of course I'll give you a ride home. I think these two need some time to catch up." She smiles gently at the two Hummels.

A look of relief passes swiftly over Puck's face before his more usual look of cool indifference returns and he shrugs, "Sure, whatever."

"Puckerman?" Burt barks and Noah flinches and throws a panicked look at Kurt. Burt studies him carefully for a moment before holding out his hand.

Puck stares at it for a moment before stepping forward and takes it hesitantly. Burt grasps it firmly and looks him in the eyes.

"Puckerman, the way I hear it, you saved my life and you saved my son's life. I can never repay you."

Puck shrugs, "It's no big…"

"Don't you dare tell me it's no big deal," Burt interrupts, his voice shaking a little, "Son, you are _always_ welcome in our house, I want you to remember that."

Puck nods, still looking a little bewildered. Carole puts her arm around his shoulder and guides him out of the room, leaving Kurt and his father alone.

"Dad… you look… horrible." Kurt says honestly.

"Last time you told me that was when I wore that sweater vest to your parent teacher meeting. Do I look as bad as I did then?"

Kurt attempts a smile, "It was _velour _dad. And burgundy. And there was a hole in the back. That was horrible on a scale I've never seen before or since."

"Then I guess I'm doing ok." Burt replies and squeezes his son's hand. "How you doin' kid? You're not looking so hot yourself."

"I'm ok." He says, "No lasting damage. I'm just… I'm so glad you're ok Dad. If anything had happened to you…" He leaves the sentence unfinished unable to put his worst fears into words.

Burt struggles to sit up, wincing in pain as the movement strains the stitches in his shoulder. Kurt leaps out of his wheelchair to help support his dad propping him up on his pillows so that he's more upright.

The whole procedure only takes a couple of minutes but both Hummels are left out of breath and exhausted by the end of it and Kurt slumps back into his chair feeling light-headed.

They sit in silence for a while, the beeping of the heart monitor and distant chatter of the medical staff the only sounds in the room.

Burt closes his eyes again and Kurt wonders if he's gone back to sleep. He hates seeing his father so still and unwanted memories from another time appear in his mind to haunt him.

He's just wondering whether he should press the call button and get someone to take him back to his room when his Dad opens his eyes again.

"Kid, you and me got some serious talking to do."

"I know we do Dad but you're not strong enough…"

"I know neither of us are punching are weight right now," Burt interrupts, "But this can't wait. Things haven't been right for a while now and I _need_ things to be right Kurt. I can't bare this distance between us. I'm just struggling to understand where it all went wrong. Where _I _went wrong."

Kurt feels the weight that lifted when he realized his father was ok return to the pit of his stomach.

"You didn't do anything wrong Dad. It's all me. All of this mess is all because of me, you nearly _died_ because of me and I can never say sorry enough. Seeing you on that branch," he shudders at the memory, "I thought I'd lost you. I thought you'd left me." He blinks away his tears, ashamed of his weakness.

His dad sighs and takes his hand, "Kurt, this has been spiraling out of control for weeks and that's my fault. I knew something was up with you. I just thought you were jealous that Finn and I were spending time together…"

"I was." Kurt says in a small voice, "I am. I'm sorry Dad. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy. After mom… you were so sad for so long and I would have given anything to make things ok again. But all I've ever done is mess things up and make things harder for you."

"Kurt…"

"Let me finish." For a moment Burt looks as if he's about to argue but he seems to change his mind and nods reluctantly for Kurt to continue.

"Dad – we both know Finn's the kind of son you dreamed of when I was born; the way you two relate to each other it's like… you've both found what you needed. I've never blamed you for that. And Carole's fabulous and you two are so great for each other. It's like you've found your missing pieces Dad and you're whole again. That's all I ever wanted for you. I just… I wish I'd been enough."

Kurt slumps further down in his chair and stares at his hands, not bothering to wipe the tears from his cheeks.

Burt sighs, "Son, I've failed you…"

"You could never…!"

"It's your turn to let me finish." he interrupts gently and Kurt nods and waits for him to continue, "Kurt, you're right. After your mom died… those were dark, dark days. There were times that I thought I'd never get through life without her. I missed her so much. You know how much I loved her, right?" Kurt nods earnestly.

"Imagining the rest of my life without her was the hardest thing I've ever done. But the thing that upset me most of all was realizing that you were going to grow up not knowing what a beautiful, courageous, _amazing_ woman you had for a mother."

He smiles at Kurt but his eyes are sad.

"You know what else made me sad?" Kurt shakes his head, "There you were, this incredible, beautiful, bright little boy who just wanted his mom and all you had was me. I was terrified Kurt, terrified that I'd let you down, that I wouldn't be enough. But there's one thing that you're very, very wrong about."

He takes Kurt's hand in his own.

"Kurt, you were enough, you _are_ enough. It's been a privilege to watch you grow and know that I had even a small influence on this incredible person you've become. Loving Carole, loving Finn – that's just a bonus. There is nothing on this earth that would change the way I feel about you. Do you understand?"

Kurt nods shakily, "I'm sorry Dad. I'm so sorry."

"We just gotta keep talking to each other Kurt. If you'd just let me know how you were feeling we coulda got this figured out a lot sooner. You know your old man's got a skull as thick as a football helmet."

"That's not true."

"It is true. I shoulda known how you felt about me and Finn. I was distracted Kurt, I dropped the ball. And I'm so sorry I made you feel that you weren't the most important person in the world to me. Truth is, Finn reminds me of myself at your age."

Kurt tries to smile, "I get it Dad, really I do."

"But you, well mostly you remind me of your mom. Your eyes, your smile… she could sing too, voice like an angel. Had the biggest heart of anyone I'd met. Until I met you."

He squeezes his son's hand, "Of course, you've got some Hummel in you too, you can be bull-headed just like your old man; you confuse the hell outta me, drive me nuts half the time but the truth is I wouldn't change one thing about you, not for the world. You have taught me _so much_ Kurt. I'm a better man for having you as a son and I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks Dad." Kurt says, his watery smile genuine this time. "I'm proud of you too. Always."

"Even when I'm wearing velvet sweater vests with holes in them?"

"It's _velour_ dad. And yes, even then. Although I'd be even prouder if you never wore that thing out in public ever again. Ever."

Burt sighs theatrically, "Fine, from now on all _velour_ will be banished from my wardrobe. Now come here and give your old man a hug."

Carefully Kurt falls into his father's embrace and the two cling to each other smiling through their tears.

* * *

Hey, thanks for sticking with me – who would have thought when I started writing this about 30 years ago that I'd still be writing it now! One more chapter to go (and I've already started planning my next fic in which there will be considerably less crying-Kurt I promise…!).


	17. Epilogue

A/N So, this story is so old now I had to dust the cobwebs off it and re-read it (cringe!) and I must admit I considered deleting the whole thing or at the very least re-writing huge sections before I decided to just go ahead and end it. I've learnt so much writing this fic (mostly about how _not_ to write!) and I hope you have enjoyed it despite its many imperfections. Thank you for sticking with me. RE

**Epilogue**

Real clothes feel like heaven after two weeks confined to pyjamas, even the silk ones Mercedes had bought him to replace the scratchy polyester hospital gown he'd grown to despise.

He's been here so long now it's hard to imagine life beyond the four walls of his room, let alone the Great Outdoors, and the thought of imminent freedom is making him impatient.

Apparently his dad feels the same.

"Home cooking Kurt! No more hospital slop. And our couch and big TV! We can order pizza!"

Kurt rolls his eyes and tries to bite back the grin that wants to form on his face. He longs for home.

"Dad…"

"Yeah, yeah cholesterol, schmolesterol. I've had enough hospital food to last me a lifetime. Actually I've had enough of _hospitals_ to last a lifetime. Haven't been this excited to leave anyplace since the day your mom and I took you home after you were born."

"From here?" Kurt asks although he already knows the answer.

"From here." Burt confirms and his eyes look far away, "Those mirrored doors at the exit? They were there back then too. I remember catching sight of our reflection. Saw myself carrying you in your carseat all wrapped up, the other arm around your mom who was just about glowing with happiness. Three Hummels against the world. First time I really understood what family was all about."

He glances at his son who is rapt with attention.

"… I ever tell you about the day you were born?"

Kurt shakes his head.

"Your mom had been in labour for almost three days before you showed up. They took you away so your mom could get some rest. She fell asleep smiling. It was only when it was quiet that I realized all I knew about my baby was that he was a boy, he was healthy and he had a fine set of lungs on him. Your mom always said you'd end up singing opera like that fat man on the Volvo commercial!"

Kurt smiles at his dad but stays quiet, not wanting to break the spell.

"A nurse took me down to the nursery. It was around midnight and the lighting in the nursery was just bright enough to see the rows of sleeping babies. I picked you out straight away, wrapped up in a blanket so only your face was showing. I only meant to come and look but as soon as I saw you I had to hold you. Nurse nearly had a fit when I tried to pick you up like a baseball! Wasn't naturally good with babies like your mom was. She sat me in the chair next to your crib and put you in my arms. She showed me how to hold you so your head didn't flop around and then left us together."

His dad's voice has been getting softer and softer and it trails off altogether.

"Dad?" Kurt puts a tentative hand on his arm and Burt looks up.

"She left us together Kurt, just you and me. And I looked at you, _really_ looked at you for the first time and, Kurt, you opened your eyes and you looked at me too. Your mom never believed me, said newborns' vision is crummy, but I swear son you looked at me and it was like we'd always known each other. And in that moment I loved you more than I ever believed it was possible to love anyone or anything and I never, ever wanted to let you go, wanted to hold you close forever. 'Course, next thing I know, the nurse was taking you out of my arms and telling me to shake ass because my snoring was waking the babies!"

"You always were a loud snorer Dad." Kurt smiles and feels it reach his eyes.

"The reason I'm telling you all this son is because that feeling? That love that felt impossible? It never changed. It never will change. And I'm sorry that I ever made you doubt that. I thought you _knew_."

"Dad?"

"Yeah."

"I'm so sorry. I did know. I _do_ know. I was just being selfish and jealous and…"

"Hey kid?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's make a deal. To stop beating ourselves up over things we can't change."

Kurt smiles, "Good plan."

They both flinch at the loud crash outside the door. There is a muffled curse before Finn enters the room backwards, pulling a wheelchair in with him.

"Hey Kurt, need a ride?"

Kurt and his dad share a look.

"That depends. Do you have a licence to drive that thing? Or anything for that matter?"

"I'm a great driver." Finn says distractedly, manoeuvring the chair round the bed and crashing into the, thankfully unconnected, IV stand. He lunges forward and catches it before it hits the wall. "See? Great reactions."

"Uh. That's ok, I think I'll walk."

"Uh-uh, hospital policy. Nurse Elizabeth said so."

Finn gestures to the chair, smiling expectantly.

"Stupid Nurse Elizabeth, I thought she liked me." Kurt mutters, casting a desperate glance towards his father who shrugs.

"Sorry son, I'd push you myself but…" He nods towards his heavily bandaged shoulder and arm in a sling.

"Fine." Kurt huffs and shuffles towards the edge of the bed.

Finn helps his carefully into the chair and secures a blanket across his knees, a look of intense concentration on his face.

Kurt looks from the blanket up to Finn, "Seriously? A grandma blanket? In tartan?"

"Dude it's cold out there!" Finn tells him, checking Kurt is secure before carefully wheeling the chair backwards towards the door.

Turns out Finn is actually a pretty good driver once he has an almost-stepbrother as a passenger and, once he cools it on the muscle car noises, Kurt gradually relaxes as he is wheeled through the myriad of corridors towards the hospital exit.

Carole meets them at the doors, a matching wheelchair in tow.

"Who's that for?" Burt asks, his tone suspicious.

"You, sweetie." Carole tells him firmly, winking at Kurt, "Nurse Elizabeth's orders."

"Damn Nurse Elizabeth, I thought she liked me." Burt grumbles but sits down anyway, wincing as the movement aggravates his shoulder.

Kurt catches Finn's eye and grins.

As they're wheeled towards the exit, Kurt catches site of the four of them reflected in the door. Two Hudsons, two Hummels, all four looking fierce in their determination to heal and protect. And, Kurt thinks, isn't that what family is all about?

**The End**

A/N That's a wrap folks. A final thank you to all of you who read and who reviewed – I can honestly say I would never have finished this without the encouragement I had from you guys and I'm very grateful.


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